


The Point of It

by FallLover



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Imprisonment, Isolation, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Referenced Child Abuse, Referenced Vomiting, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Spoilers for Season 3, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, if you like lenore this is not for you, referenced strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23032681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallLover/pseuds/FallLover
Summary: Naturally, Hector tried to take the ring off.Naturally, it went to shit.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Hector, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Hector, Lenore/Hector, Sypha Belnades & Hector, Trevor Belmont/Hector, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 30
Kudos: 275





	1. Drowning

Naturally, he tried to take the ring off.

Naturally, it went to shit.

He vaguely recalled waking up on the floor to find himself briefly lying in a puddle of his own sick and wanting to rip his chest apart with his bare hands.

At some point either he moved somewhere else or someone moved him, because he woke up lying on the blankets of his ‘bed’ in his cell, with… with _her_ raking her fingers through his hair.

“Well that wasn’t very smart, was it, boy?” Lenore almost purred.

Hector wanted to push her away. But he didn’t really feel like he could move. Even opening his eyes hurt.

“They’re almost done fixing up your new home. I’ve seen the plans. It’s going to be _wonderful_.”

Hector didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to fall into another of her traps. For a moment he’d tricked himself into thinking that simply knowing she was manipulating him would be enough. That _knowing_ was the only step required in avoiding being caught. That their back and forth wasn’t that awful, because, well… Nothing worse had happened, yet.

He had even tricked himself into thinking that if he played along, maybe he’d be able to get out. Maybe. Just maybe. Let them get comfortable with him. Think he was satisfied with little pleasures, like clothing and sheets and candlelight.

Why did he do that? Why was he that fucking stupid?

“—nd I have a lovely gift waiting for you when it’s done. I think you’ll love it.”

He hadn’t been listening to Lenore. She was going on about her… her plans. She didn’t seem to care that she didn’t have his attention.

He shut his eyes.

“Striga should be bringing in the first round of corpses in a few days, so we’ll have to get your tools set up in your new forge.” She laughed. “I’m so excited! I’ve never seen a forgemaster work. It’ll be enlightening, I’m sure.”

The waves of pain were fading away, and he felt like he could breathe normally, but he still didn’t open up his eyes.

Why did he do this? Why did he fall for this? Because she was beautiful? Because she’d at times seemed almost kind? He thought he’d never forgotten the bars, the leash. The… _unfortunate_ fact that he was her prisoner and she had the opportunity but refused to release him? He thought he hadn’t forgotten.

But then he had.

He had a child’s understanding of magic, and assumed that she did, too. Thinking himself superior for knowing… what? No more than the average rube. Just having the ability to do something with it because he was a human.

There was a light slap on his cheek and he opened his eyes to look at her.

She was still smiling. “You’re being very quiet, pet. What’s wrong?”

He blinked at her. A thousand replies leapt to his mind.

_I thought I wasn’t “real people”. Why do you care what I say?_

_Why do you talk to your pets?_

_Who plays more with her food, you or Carmilla?_

_What the fuck do you want me to say?_

Instead he looked away and said nothing.

After a moment she chuckled. “Oh dear, dear boy, are you _sulking_?”

He wondered. Sulking seemed to imply more of an equality of station between them. As if he was miffed over a disagreement they had. Like he’d asked her to go out with him and she’d refused, and it had meant a lot to him, but she had better things to do.

No. What he felt…

It had been some time since he’d last been like this. It had started when he was little. When the beatings from his parents hadn’t stopped, and had actually increased in frequency and brutality. Part of it was resignation. He was small and weak and a child and no one cared about him or what he had to say. His parents were tall and strong and they could do what they wanted.

That of course had led to what he felt now: the beginnings of despair. The hopelessness of the knowledge that nothing would ever change. That he would never figure out something to make them stop hating him. Stop hurting him.

He’d felt it again on the long march from Braila. After the beatings, the starvation, the awful exposure to the elements. The guards and their many torments, worn out as they were from all the attacks, and having few places to vent but for one prisoner who made their progress slower. He didn’t think he’d survive that trip. And when he _did_ survive, the despair had lifted ever so slightly. Particularly when the cell at least had been warm. And there was no damn wind or freezing rain. And the guards largely left him alone. ‘Largely’ of course being the key word, but well. Relativity and all that.

Despair had crept back in quickly. He knew Carmilla wanted monsters. At any moment the torture would start. Or something. The waiting was a torture of its own kind. The foul food and freezing “baths” only reminded him that things were only going to get worse.

And then, finally, one of his higher-up jailers appeared. And he’d thought he’d figured her out. A well-dressed, formal, intelligent, and beautiful vampire had once walked into his forge to seek him out, after all. This one at least didn’t look as deadly, even though he knew even the weakest of vampires would easily overpower any human. He’d only given his chance of escape a small chance of success, anyway.

And as he’d lain there on the ground of his cell, covered in new injuries from Lenore and barely conscious, he’d known that… this was how it began, likely. The next time would be torture.

But Lenore was… almost playful, in a gentle-ish sort of way. Offering him food. The blanket. The clothes, at least. That walk in the open air when he’d again forgotten what the outside looked like, much as he’d cursed the moonlight during the march from Braila. It wasn’t sunlight, but it was… something.

And he’d again underestimated her. He’d looked at the bleak wilderness in the dark that Lenore seemed so impressed by and thought, what a miserable existence. _This_ is what she considers impressive?

But he’d played along. Because that was what he had to do in order to survive. To get free.

The leash and almost kiss had been… surprising. He had expected rape, perhaps, as another form of torture. Certainly Carmilla’s guards liked it. But Lenore seemed completely uninterested. He wondered if she meant to seduce him, which seemed odd. She could do whatever she wanted, he would not make the creatures for her.

He was under no illusions that she was truly _interested_ in him. It was all a game of some kind. Carmilla had called him pet. Lenore was Carmilla’s… equal? Coworker? Underling? It was unclear. But Lenore was doing all the same things, just slightly tweaked.

But then… then she’d actually invited him to sleep with her. It was… strange. But well… It passed the time. And she was beautiful. And the things she said… Perhaps… For a moment he’d hoped. It was nice, for once in his life, for someone to say they liked him. The last person to do that had been Dracula, and he was dead and likely cursing Hector from beyond the grave.

And Hector was a fool. Always a fool. Always an overtrusting, stupid fool.

“You know I think I’ll give you your gift sooner than I’d planned. It might help with your distractibility.”

Hector had no idea what she was talking about. He lost track of time for a bit and was still lying on the blanket when he felt something clasp around his throat. He twitched and sat up.

“Oh so you’re awake now?” Lenore asked.

He blinked and put his hand up to his throat. The collar was back. But this one was metal. It didn’t feel like the one Carmilla had used, but… The lead, another leather leash, but fancier, led to Lenore’s hand, where she wrapped it around his wrist.

She smiled at him. “I _do_ like you like this. Suits you much better.”

Hector glared at her and she chuckled.

“Oh you _are_ sulking. Dear boy, that’s not worth it. What a waste of time.”

He looked away.

She chuckled again. “Oh this will be such fun. I was already looking forward to your training, but ooh… Just wonderful. Up, boy.”

She tugged lightly on the leash.

He didn’t move.

She sighed. Then she _yanked_ on the leash.

Hector fell over onto his face, gagging.

“When I give an order, boy, you obey.”

Hector lay there on the ground. His throat fucking _hurt_. But… so what? What was the alternative? Going along with this game? Building creatures for her? Letting her… _train_ him in sex, whatever that meant? Letting all his jailors use him to their heart’s content?

The problem with despair was it was a pit with no apparent bottom. It wasn’t the first time he’d considered letting go. Hoping his parents didn’t think to stop before beating him to death. Hoping villagers didn’t stop chasing him away and didn’t give up until he was cornered and... Hoping one more night of the freezing wind on the march from Braila would let him close his eyes and never wake up.

What was the point? Where did he finally stop and say _enough_? He wasn’t leaving this place. Not alive. He would be used and violated as long as they needed him and likely killed when they stopped. Was living a “cushy” physical life worth it in the meanwhile?

At every turn his pride got in his way. Vanity that he was smarter than them. That’d he wised up to their schemes. That he couldn’t be manipulated.

And he’d been proven wrong at every step.

So now that he’d try, again, to let that go, to give it up, what was stopping him from Lenore’s… offer? Yes, a cushy existence for the time he was useful was degrading, but without pride, what of it?

Deep in that pit of despair, he considered. It wasn’t the first time enslavement had been a danger in his life. He’d fled hunters before. He knew he was lucky his father was too focused on his experiments to abuse Hector’s abilities. Carmilla had threatened it. And at the time, it had been so long since he’d been beaten that he’d been cowed into it.

But…

He refused to be a slave. He couldn’t. It was all he came up with. All that was left.

But that way lay pain.

But what other options did he have? Slavery or pain.

So choose, Hector. Which is it to be?

She yanked again when he didn’t move and he coughed and fell forward again, feeling his hands skid on the stone and grunting with the pain.

He didn’t like this part of the plan, such as it was. And what’s more, perhaps she could still hurt him through the ring if he refused to do what she wanted. She seemed to have planned for everything. Surely she wouldn’t leave that open to him…

“Get _up_ , Hector.”

But nothing happened. She yanked again and he wondered if he’d have a throat left. He wondered if the last things he’d say to another person would be his desperate unraveling to Lenore when he’d realized what she’d done. What he’d _let_ her do. Willingly.

And did it matter that he’d likely never speak again to another person? He’d been alone when he’d killed his parents, and alone when he had his own place to live. And alone when he’d met Dracula. And mostly alone when he’d worked for Dracula, barely working with Isaac, seeing Dracula rarely for all his brooding, and never mingling with the vampire generals who despised him. Who did he care to speak to?

He was afraid of the pain. Always. It never got easier. But… it was better. Than the alternative. He didn’t have Isaac’s strength, to last through this. Hector would die. And hopefully soon.

He waited for her to do something with the ring. To make _him_ do something.

“Hector, we’re going to go to your new rooms. It’s lovely. A comfortable bed. A desk to work at when you’re not forging. Windows to see the sunlight. And whatever food you’d like. And if you liked that book, we have many more. Morana created an extensive library for us. And you’ll have all the access to it you could want.”

Another cage. A different cage, again, to make him forget. To trap him in some new way.

 _No_.

When he didn’t reply, she continued, “Hector, remember: I am the better option, here. Nothing has changed. We had such fun together. We could have so much _more_.”

He stayed on the ground. Would she hit him? Yank him around the room? He’d been beaten before, but at least his parents didn’t seem to have a predilection for maiming him. He knew vampires did, most of the time. They liked ripping bits off of their prey. Carmilla certainly enjoyed beating him up. He didn’t think Lenore did, if only due to her indifference on the subject, not because she cared about him; but if he’d learned anything, it was that he knew nothing about Lenore.

Lenore sighed. “Really, Hector? I’m offering you everything, and _this_ is what you do? What do you think is going to happen? I’m going to change my mind? What do you think would even happen if you left here? You said yourself you’d die almost immediately.”

Yes. He would. He was beginning to hope the same would be true if she didn’t let him go. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realized he knew very little about torture methods, and likely these vampires knew a great deal. And as he’d seen, this was only going to get worse.

He had nothing waiting for him beyond this place. No hope of escape. Just… an end.

“You know I don’t think it would be a good idea to yank your throat out. But I must warn you that for your sake I left out part of the spell on these rings. You see, I can also _activate it at will_.”

And like that, pain ricocheted around him all over again. He remembered screaming, and then the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was odd that so much of Hector's plotline was "we literally can't force Hector to make our army, and he has no desire to help us," and then torture was shot down as an option. And then Lenore was like "well actually I figured out how to get around his controlling the night creature problem". But of the things she said the rings can do, none of them were using it as an "I'm annoyed with you" shock bracelet, particularly given how much Lenore clearly likes to see Hector suffer, if nothing else, and like, escaping, attacking one of them, or removing the ring, are not necessarily making him do what they want him to. So like... it's just a leash? And instead of just seducing him, she's like "oh yeah, here's another leash" to his face. Like... telling someone you've trapped them doesn't exactly make them want to help you.


	2. Hard Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of new tags added. Read them. If you like Lenore/Hector, this probably isn't for you, but I think a lot of folks are writing that pairing, so you should have other stuff to look at!

At the start, Lenore used the ring when he wasn’t doing what Lenore wanted, which was anything she didn’t order him to do, or if he deviated from a previous order she’d given him and expected him to learn, sometimes apparently by psychic powers. He imagined the state she wanted him in was 'unmoving unless given an order'. Of course the problem was that leaving him insensate after the ring was activated and he'd screamed himself hoarse and blacked out didn’t accomplish much in the long run and made her impatient during his recovery, so she saved the ring for when she was particularly displeased with him. He didn’t bother trying to attack her. He’d already seen what happened _before_ she could cast a spell on him with a thought.

He learned the ring’s magic had a limited ability to actually make him do things on its own. He’d black out briefly, which was better than when he could remember his body doing things without his direction. It was awful. And it didn’t work well, either, which was why it wasn’t used much. The rings were strong, but not strong enough to reproduce how he created night creatures. Hector imagined it was too complex. He’d nearly brained himself with his own hammer the last time Lenore tried to use the ring to force him to make a night creature. More to the point, it hadn’t been successful in even the slightest, so she’d seemingly given up the attempt.

He imagined she didn't find that as darkly funny as he did: her trump card, not working much at all beyond a threat she could only use so much, particularly since even if he wanted to work, the magicked pain made his hands shake so hard he couldn't use his hammer correctly for more than a day.

Of course the ring was only one of many things Lenore had in her arsenal. Hector thought she'd overplayed her hand with the ring. She could easily kill him with it, but hurting him that much to try to get him to do what she wanted wouldn't get either of them anywhere, and she knew it. It hadn't worked when Carmilla tried it, after all.

Lenore was always imaginative, though.

The physical leash and collar she’d “gifted” him was a show of power. To beat him back down whenever he felt like he could raise his head to something.

Things changed now that sex was more on the table. She lived up to her words in the meeting room. Anything he’d felt for her had died – or he’d killed it intentionally – after that meeting, where she’d revealed everything he’d been too dimwitted to notice. It wasn’t that the things she wanted disgusted him. If he actually cared for or _wanted_ her, he imagined he’d want them, too. It was that he wanted nothing to do with _her_. He wanted to gag whenever his lips met some part of her body. Wanted to push her away whenever she touched him. And she was damnably good at messing with him, particularly his body.

Much as he cringed or cried or screamed, she was excellent at making him physically react to her, or making him eat or drink things that would make him physically react as she wanted once she noticed he refused to get in the proper “mood”. And sometimes she’d leave him like that. For hours. Tied up to the bed. Unable to do anything. To touch himself. Crying for relief. Begging for unconsciousness.

At one point he tried, again, to figure out a way to escape. When she’d first been seducing him, he’d had the thought in the back of his mind. He didn’t think he could escape once she’d beaten him as she had, but still. Escape was at least on the edge of his thoughts. It still was. So the idea was: if she wanted a pet, maybe… maybe he could pretend? Briefly? To give him more room to find a way out. The ring, of course, posed an issue he didn’t know how to deal with. None of the books he’d found showed ways to deal with it, and he’d never read into magic on ensorcelled objects. He supposed he could just cut his finger off, but that was all he came up with, which was a dismal prospect in itself.

Better than where he was now, he reasoned.

He obeyed her wishes, did some minimal work in his new forge to make it seem as if he was acceding. He was quiet until she ordered him to reply, ate what she put in front of him, smiled at her, avoided her gaze when she ordered it, and was biddable in every way he could be.

She rewarded him with _walks_ outside his newly fashioned cell, as he ‘creatively’ called the little apartment/shed she’d ordered for him. It was nicer than his old home, with walls and a ceiling that weren’t falling down, an enormous bed at Lenore’s request, of course, silky bedsheets and an endless supply of pillows. He had food like he’d been eating in Dracula’s castle if he pleased Lenore. The apartment itself was heated, and there were plenty of plush rugs for him to rest his feet, and of course, access to a supply of books on a variety of topics.

It was still a cell. Although it wasn’t in the dungeon, and it had windows, the glass was thick, and when Lenore was visiting, the windows were completely covered, meaning he was still stuck in the dark with torchlight more often than not.

The servants refused to speak to him. Most of them were vampires, and Lenore had given them strict orders not to touch Hector without her permission.

He’d seen two human servants once, but they hadn’t heard him when he he tried to communicate with them. He knew they were human because they were cleaning the apartment when it was sunny. Hector assumed he hadn’t been meant to see them, because it was after a night with Lenore, where she’d left him chained, naked and gagged, to the bed headboard. He’d woken up with a pounding headache and the windows uncovered, and two women he’d never seen before in servant garb cleaning the floors and countertops. They seemed to not see him, but he could see them when they walked into sunlight, uncaring.

He’d made noises with the gag, pulled against the chains. They did nothing, focusing on their tasks. And shortly enough, they left. Hector still wondered how much was Lenore’s design. For him to see humans who were on the one hand in a worse position than him, but also in a better position: servile, but free to themselves, maybe, and of course, for him to be unable to talk to them. When Lenore returned at nightfall his tears had dried and he’d fallen into a fitful sleep.

“Were you good for me today, pet?” she asked, dropping her clothes to the side of the bed and getting onto the bed so she could straddle him.

He nodded, tired and sore and not wanting to anger her.

She smiled and passed her hands over him. “Good.”

He was never allowed out when it was sunny. Their walks were always at night, often to that dismal view Lenore seemed so entranced with. He still pretended to love it, pretended to be deeply invested in whatever she said, while he really just wanted to mine it for whatever might be useful in escape. He kept up conversation when she wanted, made a few small creatures at the forge, kept track of guards and what few paths he could track in this castle.

Nothing happened. He was allowed into so little of the castle that he had no map of the place, and although Lenore spoke of a “library”, he had to request books from her or accept what she gave him, which certainly never included anything vaguely resembling a map. He only ever spoke with Lenore, and she was hardly going to tell him the number of guards they had on hand. Her compatriots ignored him, and although Lenore had said Hector would attend the meetings with Styria’s leaders, she only took him a few times, principally so he could kneel at her side and she could pet his hair. The vampires talked about troop movements, which were so vague as to be worthless to Hector, and then they’d move on to Carmilla’s latest exploits, Morana’s latest torture subject, or Hector’s slow progress.

The last meeting she took him to was where Lenore presented his latest creature, which was still on the smaller side for what Hector was used to, but larger than what’d he’d been making for Lenore. Lenore, of course, wanted to test the rings. She’d tried it on the first few small creatures Hector had presented. It was a sort of… vague pinprick sensation on the back of his skull that he was able to ignore, particularly since it was brief. Or at least that’s what Hector assumed it was, given the sensation only began when he could clearly see Lenore ordering the creature around without Hector’s direction, and the creature responded.

Lenore moved them to a balcony to show the new creature off, and when she ordered the thing to move, Hector flinched at the sharper pinprick in his skull.

Lenore ignored him. The creature – a sort of hulking troll-like figure with wings – wandered around and took a spear from one of the nearby guards, who backed off when Lenore gave him a look.

“Fascinating,” Carmilla said as she watched.

“Give it a try yourself,” Lenora said.

Carmilla grinned and Hector shut his eyes at the pain in his head, putting a hand to his face. He heard Carmilla laughing and blinked his eyes open to see the creature sort of chasing one of the guards around.

“Go for it yourself, Morana,” Carmilla said.

When Morana took control of the beast, Hector felt nauseous. Lenore still ignored him, watching her companions with a smile as they had their fun, making the night creature fly in odd directions, dance, or move the spear around. Hector wanted them to stop, but knew he didn’t dare protest. Lenore would likely ignore him anyway.

They finally grew bored, demanded Hector produce more at once, and Lenore dragged him back to his apartment, where she spent the evening edging him as a ‘reward’ for the excellent show, though he hardly asked for it.

When he finally came for her, she leaned close and said, “You see, pet, I always know what’s best for you.”

When she left him alone afterward, he curled in on himself, reevaluated everything he’d learned in his pitiful attempt at freedom, and realized he was right back where he started. In that cell after the meeting, knowing he was a slave, knowing he had no future. He could make as many creatures as Lenore and her sisters wanted, and they would control them and likely make his head explode or something. Perhaps the magic would be overwhelmed by trying to control an army, and the ring would break. In that moment, perhaps he could break free…?

But he had the subtle impression that he’d die, first. And perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. Dying, leaving an uncontrollable army of night creatures to run rampant on his captors, ripping them all to shreds. It was a pleasant fantasy.

Assuming Lenore and her sisters didn’t destroy the army and just move on with their lives. Assuming Hector actually died and they weren’t able to piece him back together and force him to work for them again. Assuming the army didn’t miraculously survive and then flee into the countryside to kill _more_ people, continuing the work Dracula wanted Hector to do, minus even the barest attempts at control Dracula had lied to Hector about.

Any option looked awful.

So Hector resigned himself to being done. No more night creatures. No more pretending to acquiesce to Lenore’s wants like he enjoyed it. It was back to the old plan. To hopefully die at some point and put an end to it all.

Lenore hadn’t left him any knives after the first time he’d tried to slit his wrists during their first meal in the new apartment. She was always watchful whenever he used any form of silverware now, even after she’d grown to trust him a bit more when he was playing the submissive pet. He was seldom allowed more than a spoon for soup, and it was swiftly taken from him when he was done eating. The apartment lacked writing tools or any other sharp implements, and he was only allowed to bathe when she or guards were present, so he couldn’t even attempt to drown himself. His hammer and tools were taken from him when he wasn’t working, his forge locked, and he wasn’t allowed out of the apartment without an escort.

He reasoned she’d grow bored at some point. She could shock him to death, drug him as much as she wanted, but surely that had to be boring at some point? Perhaps she’d act on her threats and give him to Morana. Hector was as afraid of the mysterious, always finely dressed vampire who sometimes eyed him like she could dissect him... But it wasn’t like he had much choice. He wasn’t unafraid of pain, knew an actual torturer likely had a million things to do to him that he could never imagine and made his life up until now seem a paradise, but…

If it came to torture, at least different than the damn ring, beatings, starvation, living in filth, eating foul food, rape, isolation, that damned march from Braila, exposure… he’d get to Morana’s bridge when he got there.

* * *

“What the fuck is this?” Trevor pulled the cart to a stop close enough for them to see the bloody pikes before the gate to the castle.

“Has something happened to Adrian?” Sypha hopped down from the cart and ran up to the gate. “Adrian!”

“Sypha?”

Sypha and Trevor looked over to the woods, where Adrian stepped out. He carried a basket filled with plants in one hand, and his shirt was damp. He blinked at them both.

“Trevor? What… are you two doing here?”

“Adrian!” Sypha beamed and ran up to him. She made to throw her arms around him, but he stepped back. She paused and said, “Oh, I… I’m sorry. How are you? We missed you!”

“Did you?” Adrian asked, glancing at Trevor, who was looking thoughtfully at the stakes. “You never wrote.”

“The postal service is in a shambles with all the fighting and night creatures,” Trevor replied, then he looked at Adrian. “What’s with the grotesquerie over there?” He indicated the castle entrance.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I liked the ambiance.”

“You two stop it,” Sypha said, stepping between them. She looked back at Adrian. “I’m sorry we never wrote. I wrote letters, but we never found a place to leave them.” She looked him over, thoughtful. He was definitely warier. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh… so very many things,” Adrian replied. “There’s picking grains, picking flowers, fishing, gardening, cooking… Laundry.”

“And putting people on stakes,” Trevor replied.

Adrian sighed. “They attacked me.”

“So you put them up as an example?”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. To deter other people from the same.”

“Stop being an ass, Trevor,” Sypha said. She stepped closer. “Adrian, please. Tell us what happened.”

Adrian’s lips tightened as he looked down at her. He wanted to trust her, he did, but… “The last time I trusted friends, they tried to murder me.”

Sypha frowned. “But I never… And Trevor hasn’t, since…” Her eyes widened and she looked at the stakes, then back at Adrian in shock, then sorrow. “Oh, Adrian, I’m so sorry…”

Adrian shrugged. “I’ve learned.”

“And you can stand the smell of rotting corpses?” Trevor asked, hopping down from the cart.

“I have a spell on them that slows the decay, and keeps the stench from the air,” Adrian replied.

“Thoughtful,” Trevor said. He stepped closer and Adrian was ready for a confrontation, but the hard look in Trevor’s eyes went away. Something like… understanding filled his gaze. “Tell us what happened.”

* * *

“Fuck, Adrian,” Trevor said, pouring himself some more wine. “Just… fuck.”

Sypha rubbed Adrian’s arms while the man looked at his half-empty plate. They were all in the dining room after going in and settling down for a meal.

“We should never have left you here alone,” Sypha said, quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t babysit me forever,” Adrian said. “You’re both adventurers who need to keep busy saving the world.”

“We’ll configure something,” Sypha said. “Some way we can keep in contact over long distances.”

“I’d… like that,” Adrian replied, quietly.

“And we’re going to stay,” Trevor said. “You need people who… well…”

“Friends,” Sypha said. “It’s good to be with friends.”

“Yes,” Adrian said, smiling at her. “It is.”

Sypha smiled warmly at him. Then her expression sobered. “We might be here a while, too, if it’s not too much trouble. Our adventures, such as they were… haven’t been going well.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that. You’re both more than welcome. Certainly, this is still partially Trevor’s home.”

Trevor smiled. “Well, the manor is. Not this. But…” he looked around. “I guess with the sunshine, it’s not too terrible.” He looked at Adrian and smiled. “And the company helps.”

Adrian smiled, feeling strangely nervous. Then he looked back at Sypha. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“If you help Trevor take down the stakes,” Sypha said.

Adrian sighed. “Very well.”

* * *

That night, Adrian paced. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Not since Sypha and Trevor woke up him in Gresit, and worse since his father was killed. And now he had more nightmares… Ones where Sumi and Taka were still alive, waiting to show up in his bedroom and kill him for good this time. Or that they accused him. Or ran around the hall likes corpses. The nightmares frequently varied in unusual ways. Or he was too restless to fall asleep.

He ended up in front of the room Sypha and Trevor had chosen.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself. What, he couldn’t sleep on his own? He might as well go for a walk or something.

As he was turning away, the door opened. Trevor looked out at him with a frown. “What, are you going to stand there all night, pacing? Come on. Sypha’s told me five times we should go to your room.”

Trevor opened the door so Adrian could step hesitantly in. The room was one of the bigger guestrooms, well accommodated. Adrian had gotten some of the spectral servants back in order, and they kept the rooms clean and well-stocked, and the bedsheets in order. Trevor looked… odd, in a nightgown, with his hair rumpled, too. It was almost funny.

Sypha sat on one side of the bed in a nightgown of her own and she smiled at Adrian. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’ve had problems for a while,” Adrian replied. “It’s not… something to concern you. I don’t want to interrupt your sleep.”

“Trevor was having issues, too,” Sypha replied.

Trevor huffed.

“I don’t think he likes sleeping in the castle,” Sypha continued. She patted the large middle of the bed. “Come on, you two. It’ll be like being on the road again.”

Adrian walked over, climbed onto the bed, and settled in the middle area, sliding his feet under the covers. He thought he would start to panic when Trevor came over and settled on his bare side – after all, this situation wasn’t _that_ dissimilar – but Sypha was right. It was like the road. When they’d been traveling to… to kill Dracula.

“Adrian,” Sypha said, reaching out to brush tears from his cheeks. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

“I missed you both,” Adrian said, sounding small and wavering. He was a fool. He shouldn’t be here. Not like this. “I’m sorry, it… I think the solitude has gotten to me.”

Sypha hugged him. She was so small, but warm. He never wanted her to let go. “We shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry, Adrian.”

Trevor leaned against his side. A solid bulk, possibly keeping Adrian’s nightmares away. Or at least Adrian hoped he was. He almost laughed to himself. Of course Trevor didn’t have those powers.

“I miss my father,” Adrian added, quietly. “I know I… I shouldn’t.”

“He was your father,” Trevor said, which surprised the dhampir. “From how you’ve spoken of him, you loved him. It doesn’t matter how it ended up. In fact, that makes it worse. The number of times I’ve… I’ve blamed myself for what happened to my family… For not being there, for not stopping it… For my weakness… But I wasn’t the one who started the fire. You lost your mother to stupid fucking humans. Then you lost your father to his grief, and then… then we finished it.”

“And then you were alone,” Sypha continued, when Trevor was quiet for a time.

“I nearly drowned myself in drink when my family was killed,” Trevor said. “I should have known… I’m sorry, Adrian. For leaving you alone.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s a shit thing to do to a friend.” Trevor raised his arm and put it under Adrian’s neck so he could wrap it around Adrian’s shoulders. “We’re here for you. Whatever you need.” He lightly touched his forehead to Adrian’s, and the dhampir smiled. His eyes were still wet, but he could feel the warmth of the two humans beside him, and he felt… safe. It wasn’t questionable, like when Sumi and Taka had showed up in the night. He’d fought beside these people. Trusted them with his life. Bled with them. Nearly died at their side. He remembered countless nights on the road together. Planning. Wondering if they’d live their mission out.

And they had. They’d won. Perhaps… Perhaps they could keep doing that.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly.

* * *

Lenore walked into Hector’s apartment and flipped the lights on before she carefully unpinned her coat and set it on the coat rack. Then she walked over to the small nightstand and chair by the wall and sat in it, picking up the book she’d started working on the other day.

There was a soft thud from the closed and locked closet door next to the chair, and then silence.

Lenore smiled and sat in her chair, reading.

After about two hours she put the book down and stretched, then pulled a keyring from her belt and carefully unlocked the closet door. She stepped back, turning her head slightly at the stench. When it aired a bit she looked down thoughtfully at Hector, curled up in a corner of the closet, shielding his eyes from the light. His hair looked a bit greasy, and she could hear his heavy breathing, the fast pace of his heart, the rumbling of his stomach.

“Come now, Hector,” Lenore said. “Out.” She watched as he carefully pushed himself up, fell over, and crawled out of the closet. She grabbed his filthy hair and pulled him up.

His legs didn’t support him and he cried out with barely a whimper as he fell.

She caught his arm and tsked. “So inelegant. One would think you were ungrateful that I let you _out_.” She dragged him to the bathroom and pushed him into the large bathtub. “Clean yourself,” she ordered, dropping some soap in with him as the water filled. She stood back and watched as he used a shaking hand to lift some water to his dry lips before starting to clean himself.

When he was done, she dropped a towel on his head so he could start drying himself as the tub drained. He pushed himself up and she helped him out, then led him over to the dining table, where a servant had set up a nice meal for them. Hector flinched at the smell or the sight of it, Lenore couldn’t really tell, but he didn’t do anything when she pushed him into a chair. He waited while she sat down and put food on their plates.

“So,” she said, pouring herself some wine. “Have we decided to stop this refusal to work? Or would we like to try six days in the closet next time?”

Hector didn’t say anything. He merely shook his head.

“Is that a no, you’ve decided to get with the program, or a no, you’re going to continue being an idiot?”

Hector didn’t look at her, but he opened his mouth, wheezed a little, then shut it.

Lenore raised an eyebrow and shrugged. She knew he’d spent a good chunk of his imprisonment crying, wasting more of what little water there was in his system, and of course the screaming when she’d used the ring before going back to the closet. And he hadn’t had much to drink, still. She was almost surprised he could still talk after all the screaming, at the end of which he’d still refused to do his work, the fool. But she always had plans on top of plans in case of bad eventualities. She poured him some water and gestured. “Eat. This is even more pathetic than usual.”

His hands shook as he picked up his food, but it got to his mouth. And he wasn’t rabid. He’d learned from the first time they’d done this, where he’d thrown up immediately after and she’d tied him to the bed for a day in punishment.

Lenore started talking about her day, while Hector remained silent, as she had trained him. When they were done, Lenore tugged at his elbow and half dragged him to the bed, where he flopped down like a rag doll. He was shaking and his eyes were afraid.

She smiled hungrily at him. “That was a terrible inconvenience for me, you know: you, being unavailable for so long. How do you think you’ll make it up to me?”

He cringed away when she roved her hands over him.

She smiled. “I remember the first time we were together. You with that lovely mouth of yours. It felt simply wonderful. We haven’t done that in a while, and I imagine you’re still _hungry_.” She turned so she was lying next to him and pushed him until he was half on top of her. “Get to work.”

Hector pushed himself up and slowly moved down to her waist. He paused and looked up at her, for whatever reason. She raised an eyebrow and waved sarcastically at him. Always the hand with the ring on it, so it glinted in the light.

When he spotted it, he cringed, and looked back down.

* * *

“That should stay up for a good, long while,” Sypha said as she and Adrian finished their last test of the castle wards. “No unwanted visitors.” They had set themselves up just outside the castle, so they could better see the effects of their tests.

“Thank you, Sypha,” Adrian said, quietly. She had been invaluable in going through all the spellbooks. He knew a bit of magic himself, but her expertise on the subject was far superior.

She patted his arm. “Don’t thank me, yet. Now that we’re done, Trevor will want us to set out.”

Adrian snorted as the man himself showed up in the castle doorway. He was holding a map.

“So I’ve been putting together reports from refugees and some merchants I’ve been chatting with,” Trevor said as he walked up to them. Trevor had been wandering around while Adrian and Sypha busied themselves with the wards. He wanted a better map of the area and a better understanding of Adrian’s neighbors. Sypha said it was a sort of cross between restlesness and protectiveness. In case more Sumi and Takas were out in the woods.

It was.... Oddly sweet.

“There’s something going on in Styria,” Trevor continued. “Or around it, anyway.”

“Styria is the seat of power for another group of vampires,” Adrian said.

“Oh. Well… I guess they’re taking advantage of Dracula’s absence and making a move on the countryside. There have been attacks. Big troop movements.”

“You want to do something about it,” Sypha said.

“Well… yes.”

“Like what?” Adrian asked.

“Vampire hunting,” Trevor said. “The kind who like to pen up humans like cattle,” he amended, when Adrian frowned at him. “I know you don’t really like it, Adran, but you’ve said yourself that most vampires are bloodthirsty monsters. Or do you like some of these?”

“I never met the Styrian rulers. I saw them a few times over the years, at a distance. I believe one of them… Striga? I think? Thought I was “odd-looking”. Before… Father dismissed them.”

“Well,” Trevor said. “How about we go and check things out? Something to pass the time, anyway.”

Adrian huffed. “Very well. It will certainly put the new wards to a field test.”

“Another adventure!” Sypha said, clapping her arms around the other two. “And this time…” Her expression clouded. “ _This_ time…”

“It’ll be better,” Trevor said, hugging her back. “Or different, anyway. You keep moving forward, right?”

“Yes,” Sypha replied, smiling gratefully up at him.

“Forward, then,” Adrian said.

* * *

Isaac sat in the forest and considered the overwrought castle before him. It reminded him a great deal of Dracula’s castle. Neither of which were designs he cared for. But in his experience, vampires tended to go overboard for the hell of it. A waste of time and resources, but it was someone else’s time and resources to waste, at least.

He sensed his soldiers around him. They were restless. Ready for the next fight. So very many of them, and they would destroy this place. He’d rip it apart searching for his _prey_.

The mirror had seemingly stopped working. Or perhaps Hector had found a way to hide from it. Now whenever Isaac looked into it, he just saw darkness.

“No matter,” he said to himself, quietly. “I will get answers from his _friends_.”

His soldiers growled.

* * *

Hector hunched in on himself in the dark. He wondered how long it would be this time, or if Lenore had decided this was it. This was the last. He’d considered actually doing as she requested the last time. He was so weak after she’d finally let him out that she’d given him some time to “recover” as it were before sending him to his forge. He’d stared down at his hammer and the corpses the guards had brought him. Felt Lenore’s gaze on his back.

All he had to do was pick up the hammer and do what she wanted and that would be it. It would be easy. Wouldn’t it? Easier than being trapped in the closet again, with no food or water, no light except when Lenore turned the light on and it peaked through the tiny cracks in the door. Barely any room to move. Just a hole in part of the floor so he didn’t drown in his own muck.

Almost worse were the memories that plagued him when he had nothing to distract him, and the endless dark. How his parents had exiled him to the cellar – which would be a paradise in comparison to where he was now. Even with the rats and the cold.

He rubbed his bare skin. Lenore always stripped him before pushing him inside. Another humiliation perhaps? Maybe she didn’t want him to try to strangle himself with his clothes, even though he didn’t think it was possible anyway.

He hadn’t picked up the hammer. He’d sat on the floor.

Lenore sighed and said, “Hector, really, what do you think you’re accomplishing with this? I promise you, this is _better_ than Morana. Better than Striga, who would tear you to pieces. Better than Carmilla, who would just bludgeon you again. They are growing _impatient_.”

“Then I guess it’s a shame you can’t get me to do what you want,” Hector replied. “Probably makes you look bad.” He knew he’d suffer for it. He always did. She liked the backtalk sometimes. She laughed fondly at it, even when she punished him.

Still. He’d said it.

Even though he was ready for it, he still wasn't entirely ready as pain went straight through him. Like needles that just grew sharper and didn't stop.

He blacked out.

When he came to, she was standing over him, her expression unimpressed.

“I think this time we’ll try for a new record in the closet, hmm?”

He realized at some point this had always been a back-up plan. The closet had just been _there_ when she’d first tossed him into it. He’d never gone into it. It was locked and he didn’t have the key. He assumed she kept the things she didn’t want him touching in it. And it had always been there for all the time he’d lived in the apartment. Which meant either it was there before he’d moved in, or someone had added it when they renovated it for his dwelling. But she’d never threatened him with it before he was first shoved inside. Perhaps she felt the ring and her other torments were enough to keep him under control. For the Styria ruler who wasn't designated torturer, she had a number of torture implements at her disposal.

He’d been a bit surprised the first time. Had expected her to let him out sooner. Being locked in a closet definitely an odd change of pace from her usual torments. Although that had devolved when old fears of dying alone in the dark, devoured by rats or some more primal childhood fears, resurfaced, and he banged on the door, begging to be let out, crying like a frightened child. Lenore had opened the door and he’d fallen, sobbing, at her feet, clinging to her ankles.

In that moment, he’d somehow thought: better a living devil than the ones in his mind.

“I take it you’ve changed your mind, then?” Lenore had said. He could hear the _smile_ in her voice. Maybe she wasn't as into torture as Morana was, but she enjoyed seeing him in pain, at least. Wanting him to be happy be damned, like all her other poisonous lies. “Realized what you’ve done wrong?”

And he had, after a fashion. Apologized as many times as she wanted. Did what she wanted in bed. Even made some small creatures at the forge.

And then he _remembered_. Well, she reminded him, in varying painful ways that at least thankfully sometimes led to unconsciousness. She resorted to the ring more than she had in recent weeks. It took him longer to recover and she hated the delay, but he thought... maybe... she was actually getting a bit desperate. Not desperate enough to kill him outright, yet, or make good on her threat to give him to one of the other vampires, but still.

She'd reminded him that living devils were far worse than memories.

* * *

“Next time I walk through a mirror into a place I’ve never been to,” Trevor said as he cut down another vampire in its stupid armor. “Remind me _not_ to do that.”

Sypha cut down her own enemies. “Well it saved us time, didn’t it?” she commented, leaping up and dodging more attacks. “We found the vampires. We don’t have to sneak anywhere or pretend.”

“Yes, but I didn’t expect to walk into a _war_ zone.”

They’d walked right into the thick of it. Sypha had offered the idea of mirror travel, using some equipment from the castle. It meant they’d save time and be back at the castle faster. But when they arrived, they were right in the middle of a strange army of vampires fighting a strange army of night creatures.

Adrian threw aside a kind of demented wyvern so that it landed on three vampire soldiers before he called his sword to spear an oncoming blob monster. “It certainly is a different way to spend the day,” he added to the banter, before focusing on what he was doing.

The room eventually cleared and they all took a breather.

“Well,” Trevor said as he wiped some monster guts from the Morningstar and stopped around a pile of corpses. “That was something.”

“What are you doing here?”

All three of them looked up to see a newcomer. A tall black man wearing a robe and standing before a group of more night creatures. The man gazed at them all calmly.

“We’re here to kill vampires,” Sypha said before Trevor could open his mouth.

“I see that,” the man said, looking around.

“And night creatures,” Trevor commented, looking at the creatures behind the strange that didn’t seem interested in attacking him in the slightest. “Interesting how they don’t seem bothered by _you_.”

“It is, isn’t it?” the stranger said.

“I know you,” Adrian said, stepping forward with a frown. “You… you worked for my father. Isaac? The forgemaster?”

Isaac blinked at them. “Adrian Tepes? So, you live, still.” Isaac’s eyes turned flinty. “And you murdered Dracula.”

“He was attempting genocide of the human race,” Sypha said.

Trevor glanced around. “It’s interesting that your creatures were fighting the vampires. Aren’t you allied with them?”

Isaac scoffed. “I was allied with Dracula. These were some of his underlings before they betrayed him. Now… I come to wreak his vengeance.”

“Then we are on similar missions,” Sypha said.

“…I suppose,” Isaac replied.

“We can fight here and now,” Trevor continued, raising his whips. “If that’s what you want.”

Isaac watched him, his expression unreadable. Finally he shrugged. “I have no interest in fighting the three of you. My business is with Styria’s rulers. They took something from me. I want it back.”

“What did they take?”

“None of your business,” Isaac replied. “Stay out of my way, and you won’t die.” With that he turned and walked deeper into the castle.

“Interesting man,” Trevor said, before he turned back to Adrian, who looked… haunted. “Adrian?”

“What?”

“You all right?”

“I… It’s just…” He sighed. “He was my father’s friend. It’s… difficult.”

Trevor patted his shoulder. “We’re here for you. If you need us.”

“Of course." Adrian smiled. "Thank you.”

* * *

Hector woke up in the dark again, and realized Lenore hadn’t yet let him out. He wondered how long he was unconscious. He’d fallen into a fitful, thankfully dreamless sleep at some point. But nothing changed. He couldn’t hear her. She normally sensed when he woke and came over to taunt him. To demand his obedience for his freedom.

He swore he would refuse this time. He would.

Time passed. She didn’t return. Then the ring on his finger burned briefly and then grew cold before it... _dissolved_. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel its absence. He felt around his finger for it. It was gone.

His eyes watered. He had no idea what that meant. Had the spell weakened? Was Lenore... dead? He’d believe _that_ first before he believed that she undid the spell. And she hadn’t let him out yet. If she was to remove the ring herself, she’d make a show of it for him. To show her generosity or affection or something.

But if she was dead then... who would let him out of the closet?

He laughed then. Laughed and laughed until he was crying against the wall and hiccupping on it. To have finally gotten free again... only to die in a closet in the dark because no one knew or cared he was there. It felt... appropriate.

He steeled himself and moved to the door, feeling for the cracks in it. It was a finely made closet. The hinges were on the outside. The lock was on the outside. The cracks were almost invisible, they were so thin. He’d only seen them because of the rare times they let in light. The wall behind him was wood, and he knew the outer wall of the apartment was stone. He’d never get through it.

He tried pounding on the door and shouting, as if anyone would come looking. He kept hitting, hoping maybe, just maybe...

Sometime later Hector was taking another break. He could barely move his hands anymore. But he had to keep trying. Keep trying until... until he died, perhaps.

The door trembled, there was a bang, and then the door opened, and Hector covered his face against the light.

“You,” a voice Hector had never expected to hear again said.

Hector lowered his arm and looked up to see...

“Isaac?” His voice was small and raspy. He’d screamed a great deal, yelled, begged, and cried too long. He had barely any breath left in him.

Isaac glared at him. “So, cowering in a closet while your comrades fight?”

Hector blinked at him, utterly confused. Comrades? Cowering? What fighting?

But one thing he could tell, Isaac hated him. And it made sense. Hector had accepted that. Likely Isaac was here to kill him.

“Respond, dog,” Isaac demanded, raising a hand to slap him.

Hector instinctively raised his arms over his face, cringing away, even though there was little to move to. He’d happily let Isaac kill him. He deserved it. But...

“Why are your hands like that?”

Hector blinked and looked at him.

Isaac grabbed his left hand and Hector cried out, weakly, nearly falling over.

Isaac looked at the hand for a bit, then the door. He touched what appeared to be... scratch marks. Human scratch marks. From inside the closet. Blood splatters dotted the wood.

Isaac considered that the door had been locked from the outside. The hard part in him wanted to believe a cowering Hector had found a hiding place and accidentally locked himself in, but the signs pointed to that not being the case.

Hector was shaking under Isaac’s grip and Isaac frowned down at him. Hector wasn’t looking at him, but staring instead at the floor. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t scream or beg for mercy or thank Isaac for his rescue, even as he was naked and filthy and in pain.

“So what’s a forgemaster want in here?” A drawling but sharp tone demanded.

Isaac glanced at the Belmont standing by the doorway. The Speaker was at his side. 

Isaac frowned. “I fail to see what business it is of yours.”

“It is when you found your fellow forgemaster from when you served under my father,” Adrian Tepes said as he walked out from behind Trevor. Adrian glanced down at Hector, who flinched away from him. “Looking to start back again where you and my father left off?”

“What I do or do not do is none of your concern, Adrian Tepes,” Isaac said, gripping Hector’s wrist so hard that Hector made another small sound of pain.

“You will not be taking the other forgemaster,” Adrian said.

Isaac scoffed, and released Hector’s wrist, letting the man draw back and curl around it to shake some more. “I was not planning to.”

In a flash he drew his dagger and plunged it towards Hector’s revealed neck.

His dagger skidded off ice. Isaac stepped back to see an ice shield covering Hector.

Isaac narrowed his eyes and stood up, staring at the Speaker, who had her hands out, casting. “You care that greatly for one of Dracula’s hired killers? If I am the target of your hate, he is just as much to blame. We held equal positions in Dracula’s court.”

“Why do you want to kill him?” the Speaker asked. “Aren’t you... friends?”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “We worked together. We were not friends. He betrayed Lord Dracula. He will die for it.”

“So he did a good thing, then?” Trevor asked, smiling lightly. “Sounds like someone worth defending.”

“Betraying one vampire for another is likely not your definition of good, Belmont,” Isaac replied. “He still planned to help slaughter all humans.”

“He has no weapons,” Sypha said. “He’s… naked. You’re going to kill a defenseless naked man?”

“Would you rather give him something to attack you with?”

“Len…ore…”

They all paused when Hector said the quiet words.

“Speak up, dog,” Isaac demanded. “We cannot hear your whining.”

“Lenore… is… is she dead?”

“Who is Lenore?” Sypha asked.

Hector looked up at them. He was still shaking and pressed back against the wall. “A redheaded vampire.” He coughed. “She… she’s one of the ruling council here. With Carmilla. And Morana. And Striga.”

“The vampire queens are dead,” Isaac said. “We killed them. All four of them.”

“…Dead?”

“Yes.”

Hector shut his eyes and tears fell down his cheeks. “Thank fuck. His eyes rolled up into his head as he crumpled to the floor. He didn’t move from there.

Isaac snorted and tried to attack him again, but now there was more ice around him.

“You will stop protecting him!” Isaac warned, glaring at Sypha. “Or I will come for you next.”

“So come, then,” Sypha said, a fire in her eyes. “I am not afraid of another of Dracula’s lackeys. I’ve killed plenty of you.”

“And you’ll have to get through both of us to get to her,” Trevor said, flexing his whips. Adrian looked calmly at Isaac, but his gaze was sharp, and he was ready to attack.

Isaac looked between them. Much of his army was decimated. He would need to rebuild. And taking out Carmilla and her sisters had been… taxing. He so rarely faced worthy opponents. Facing four in a row had apparently sapped some of his reserves, even if the trio had come in and helped. Somewhat. He thought he could still take these three. Maybe.

He damned everything. He hadn’t come so far only to be stopped here!

He looked down at Hector. The man was definitely unconscious. Isaac could hear his labored breathing, see his back rise and fall. He was alive, for now. Isaac would find him again, now that he wasn’t in the closet. The mirror would find him.

“Very well,” Isaac said. “I will be seeing you.” He walked out of the room, not touching any of them.

Sypha waited a bit, then let her ice shield go. Hector didn’t move.

“Well,” Trevor said, looking at the unconscious, dirty, naked man on the floor. “Now what?”


	3. Little World

When Hector woke up, he blinked at the ceiling. Dark, crackles of firelight… He turned his head and froze when he spotted the cell bars.

_Oh._

He was in that place with crying where his eyes watered but he wasn’t quite sure he’d cry. Lenore always threatened a return to his first cell. She’d never follow through, because keeping him in his shack was easier and more comfortable for her, but it was always a threat. He wouldn’t have thought it different than the shack anyway, other than the return of a guard staring at him sometimes.

He sighed and put his head back. He frowned when he realized there was cushioning under him. And a pillow of some kind. He’d had something like a bed before he’d moved to his shack, but this felt a bit more than that. He sat up and winced. Every part of him _hurt_. His back, his sides. And he felt… wobbly. Weak.

He looked down at where his head had been resting. It was definitely a pillow. A pretty nice one, too. Filled with feathers, seemingly. And he didn’t seem to be sleeping on straw, but rather some thick blankets of some kind. He was actually under a thick blanket, too. It was warm. And… someone had left him wearing clothes. That didn’t look familiar.

Another of Lenore’s tricks? To make him think she was being charitable? He picked at his shirt. It was nice, too. Not a nobleman’s garb, certainly, but not basic servant’s garb, either.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Hector looked up to see a smiling tan-skinned woman with red hair walk up to him. She held a steaming cup of something in one hand, a bundle of books in the other.

“I just went to get some more reading and brew some tea. I’m sorry I was gone so long! I’m Sypha Belnades, a Speaker, by the way.”

Hector blinked at her.

She blinked, then set her burdens on a table and walked towards the cell bars. She was still smiling, but now her expression became a bit rueful. “I’m sorry about… Well…” She tapped the bars. “Trevor and Adrian insisted.”

At Hector’s confused expression, seemingly, she continued, “I told them it wasn’t needed, but well…” She shrugged.

Hector wondered if she was a vampire of some kind. He’d never met a speaker before, it wouldn’t surprise him that Carmilla would recruit one… But she… looked sort of familiar…

His eyes widened. He remembered. The closet, Isaac, the strangers…

“What’s wrong?” Sypha asked.

Hector realized he was breathing too rapidly. And Sypha was watching him. Probably drinking it in. He calmed himself. It took far too long.

“I can get you something to eat,” Sypha said, “Or drink, if you’d like.”

“What is it you want from me?” Hector asked, quietly.

Sypha raised an eyebrow at him. “Want?”

“You want me to make an army for you.”

“…No?” Sypha said, clearly confused. “We’d actually prefer no armies, thank you.”

“…So you’re planning to kill me.”

Sypha smiled sadly. “No. Trevor may threaten it, unfortunately, and Adrian has mentioned it, but we’re not planning to kill you.”

“…So what, I’m to be your pet?”

Sypha looked nervous now. “No, but… We haven’t really decided what to do.”

“…Wonderful.” Hector turned away and lay back down, burying himself under the blanket. At least the place was warm.

“But really, I can get you something to eat or drink! You haven’t had much since we brought you here. Healing you took a lot of your energy reserves. We managed to get you to drink a little, but you’re not eating. You must be hungry…?”

Hector’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. He’d had practice. He didn’t reply to her.

“…I really am sorry about the cell. They were worried about you breaking out or something. I don’t know how you would, and honestly if the two mighty warriors can’t stand up to _one_ human, that’s not very impressive.”

She had a playful tone, and sounded genuinely remorseful.

But so had Lenore. He refused to deal with another Lenore.

So he said nothing.

“Adrian’s a very good cook, you know,” Sypha said. “You’d love his food.”

Hector stared at the blank cell wall. He wondered if they were still in Styria. The cells looked different, but still.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced. Your name is Hector, though, right?”

Hector still stared at the wall.

“Well… I can read to you, if you’d like. I’m a Speaker, so I’m used to it. Trevor says he finds my voice relaxing, so maybe it will help.” He heard the sound of her walking away, resettling, maybe sitting, opening one of her books. She cleared her throat and began to read from what must have been something about fairy tales.

Hector sighed and closed his eyes.

* * *

At some point he must have fallen asleep, but she was still there when he woke up.

She smiled at him as he blinked at her. “Good afternoon! It’s just past lunch time! Would you like to eat something now?”

He rolled his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position, but facing away from her.

“She’s just trying to be polite,” a quiet, somewhat delicate and sharp voice said. “You don’t have to be rude.”

Hector glanced back to see… Adrian Tepes, Dracula’s son, walk forward. His arms were crossed and he had what could best be described as a bored glare on his face as he watched Hector. Hector blinked at him, then turned away again, crossing his arms over his knees. He needed to relieve himself, but… He would wait until they went away.

“It’s thanks to Sypha that you’re still alive,” Adrian continued. “You should be thankful.”

 _“You should be so thankful, pet. Just imagine if I gave you to—”_ He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, thinking of something else. Puppies. Cats. Grass. Well, what he thought grass felt like. It had been so long he kind of forgot.

Adrian watched the rather small human shake on his mat of a bed. The clothing fit him badly. Even made for something of a stringy servant, it still failed to hide the lack of meat on the man’s bones. Adrian could hear the man’s stomach rumble every now and then. He wondered at the increased heartrate. The fear.

Dracula had spoken of Hector once, some time ago. How he had a fascinating ability to revive dead animals, and could easily do more if he so wished, but seemed content to live out his days alone, in a shack. Dracula also spoke of how he was a pitiable creature, desiring praise and lucky that his neighbors left him alone.

Adrian remembered seeing a well-dressed man who looked a bit uncomfortable in the finery Dracula had given him, who avoided Adrian’s gaze and kept to his workroom. They’d never spoken. He still wondered how making actual monsters had affected the human.

“I need…” the man said quietly, “to… to use the… accommodation. Do you plan to watch?”

Adrian snorted and turned aside.

Sypha said, “Oh,” and walked towards the door. She paused, looking back at Adrian. “Adrian…?”

“I’ll stay.”

She frowned at him. “He’s not going to escape.”

“He won’t,” Adrian affirmed.

She stared him down for a bit, sighed, and continued out the door, shutting it behind her.

Adrian stayed facing the wall opposite the cell. After a while, he heard Hector shuffle into a standing position, stretch a bit, then walk to the hole in the floor in a corner of the cell. He said nothing as Hector took care of his business, and said nothing as the man sat back down on the floor. Adrian finally turned back and Hector was still staring at the wall of the cell, not the bars. His head was lower, though, and he had the blanket wrapped around himself.

Adrian frowned. “You’re crying.” He heard Hector sigh, but the man said nothing. Adrian stepped up to the bars. “This accomplishes nothing, you know. Starving yourself only hurts _you_.”

The man tightened his grip on the blanket and bowed his head more.

Adrian shook his head.

Sypha returned, smiling, and holding a tray of hot soup and some bread and grapes. “Hector, I came back with some food. It’s not… the most amazing, but it’s warm. And I like it, anyway.”

She stood by the bars, waiting. The smell filled the room. They both heard Hector’s stomach growl.

But the man said nothing. And didn’t turn to them.

“Oh this is ridiculous,” Sypha said. She reached for the cell door and Adrian reached out to stop her. She glared him down and opened it, then walked into the cell. Adrian stayed by the door, making sure he couldn’t be locked inside, but ready if Sypha needed him.

Hector looked up at Sypha then, and shrank away from her, cringing slightly into the wall behind him. He covered his head protectively, as if to ward off blows.

She looked down at him in surprise. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please eat. Your body is still recovering, and I can tell you haven’t eaten in a while.” She lowered the tray towards him.

He didn’t touch it, and actually shrank away even more.

Sypha knelt and sat on the floor near him. Hector’s shaking grew worse.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. It’s not poisoned or anything. See?” She cut off a piece of the bread, dipped it in the stew, and ate it, smiling at the man. “Perfectly safe.”

Hector didn’t move. Adrian noted his heartrate was far too fast.

“Sypha,” Adrian said. “You’re scaring him.”

“I just…” Sypha began. She sighed. “I just want you to eat something. You’re going to get worse if you don’t.” She set the tray on the ground nearby and stood up, walking back to the door.

Adrian let her out, then closed the door behind her. They watched Hector lower his arms, slowly, glance down at the tray, then turn his back to them again, staring at the wall.

Sypha sighed.

“You can’t help everyone,” Adrian said.

“I told you we shouldn’t have put him in a cell!” She hissed at him.

Adrian sighed. “He’s a mass murderer, Sypha.”

“When was the last time he killed someone?”

“That hardly changes things.”

“He’s been tortured for who knows how long, he’s covered in scars, he’s malnourished… What do you think he’s going to do if he has a decent bed to sleep in and a fireplace?”

“Escape?” Adrian offered. “Raise minions to work for him?”

She sighed. “Ah yes, and none of us would be able to stop him.” They both looked back at the man. He still wasn’t looking their direction. The food was untouched. Sypha stepped towards the bars again. “What can I do?” she began. “What can I do so that you’ll eat the food?"

Hector snorted. “I’ve played this game before and I’m tired of it.”

Sypha perked up. At least he was _talking_. “What game?”

“The one where you pretend you care and I say what I want and you taunt and/or torture me with it.”

Sypha blinked. “I wouldn’t do that! I just want you to eat so you can recover your health!”

“Why?” Hector asked, still staring at the wall. “So one or all of you can fuck me? Or so I last longer under torture?”

“We’re not going to do either of those things!” Sypha replied.

“Ah,” Hector replied. “Seeing as I trust your word wholeheartedly, I suppose I’m to be a new pet kept in a cell for eternity, then. I’d rather just die of starvation, thanks.”

Sypha frowned and Adrian raised a hand to stop anything else she might say.

“That does seem to be your lot at this point,” Adrian said, looking at Hector’s back. “Sypha refuses to let us kill you, and there’s no way I know of to bind a forgemaster’s power.”

“Adrian!”

“The man wants honesty, Sypha, and so did you.”

“I don’t want him to starve himself because he thinks he’s never—!” She paused and looked away.

“If he does, it saves us some trouble,” Adrian replied.

“That’s too callous, Adrian, and you know it. You sound worse than Trevor.”

Adrian snorted. “Don’t insult me.”

“If you’re insulted by the truth, that’s your problem.”

Adrian shook his head. “Whatever. He’s awake. He can eat food or starve himself. That’s his call.” Adrian left the room.

Sypha sighed, then looked back at Hector, who still hadn’t moved from where he was facing the wall.

“I can… leave you alone?” she offered. “If you wish.”

“I imagine you can do whatever it is you like,” Hector replied.

Sypha swallowed. “The vampires… they… Earlier you said you expected us to… assault or torture you. That’s what they did, isn’t it?”

Hector didn’t reply to that. He didn’t see the point. He did ask, “Is Lenore… Is she really dead?”

“Which one was she?”

“The red-haired vampire. Wore a white cloak most of the time. Pale skin.”

“Oh yes. I killed her, actually. Wouldn’t stay in one place long enough for the boys to take care of.”

“…Thank you.”

“You asked about her before,” Sypha said. “And I feel like you wouldn’t thank me if you were friends.”

“…We weren’t friends.” The word felt like acid in his mouth when he thought of Lenore.

“What did she do?”

“Why do you care?”

“You want out of this cell, right? I need something to give to Adrian and Trevor to do that. If I can convince them you won’t hurt us or go after humanity again, that would probably work.”

Hector sighed. “Lenore… She took over the role of jailor after Carmilla dragged me to Styria. She befriended me. Seduced me, I guess, if you can call it seduction. I imagine it was too simple for her to call it a seduction. I thought… I was stupid enough to fall for it, and she… And…” He swallowed and looked down at his hand, still bare of the ring. “They wanted night creatures, and I wouldn’t supply them without coercion.” He couldn’t tell her more than that. They’d likely figure out how to do what Lenore had done, and then he’d… he’d be…

But he was going to let himself die, anyway. But maybe they were better than Lenore at keeping him alive. Besides, one promise not to rape and torture him wasn’t unbreakable, was it?

“She used a sort of binding to control my creatures if I ever made them. And then she thought her work was complete, I guess. She forgot the part where I still had no desire to work for her, particularly after that kind of… betrayal.” He laughed. _Betrayal_. How many times did he have to make the same mistake? Never trust humans. Never trust vampires. His parents, the villagers, Dracula, Carmilla, Lenore… When was he going to learn his fucking lesson? “And she wanted a pet, too. So she… She…” He swallowed. He didn’t want to think about anything that had happened to him. Didn’t want to share it with this stranger. What would she get outside of sick satisfaction at his debasement? Or tips on what worked?

He realized Sypha hadn’t said anything, and he glanced back to see if she was still there. She was, and she’d taken a step closer at some point, and was watching him, with pity in her gaze. He turned away again.

Pity. From a jailer. What worth was that? She could open the bars, let him go, no matter what Adrian or ‘Trevor’ said. Maybe they’d cut him down as he left, and so what? It would be a better end than _this_.

“What did she do?” Sypha finally prompted, quietly.

“She was a vampire with a human as a prisoner and I’m still alive. Figure it out for yourself.”

“Adrian is a dhampir with a human prisoner who is still alive. And he has not done any of the things I think Lenore has done to you, outside of keep you prisoner.”

“What do you…? What do you know of what’s been done to…?” Hector swallowed.

“I’ve traveled a great deal. Seen terrible things. Trevor and Adrian think I have such a naïve view of humanity, that I have no experience with its atrocities. And it’s true, sometimes, the things we see are more monstrous than I can imagine. But that is moreso because monstrousness has no bottom, than that I’ve seen nothing. I’ve seen slavery, abuse of authority, and met survivors of torture and prolonged imprisonment. And we have stories of many. And Adrian and I had to look over your injuries while treating you. I do not know the full extent of what Lenore did to you, but I can guess at least some.”

Hector shied away from the thought. That someone else _knew_.

“I am sorry that happened to you.”

Hector scoffed. “What good is that? Does it change anything? Does it make it all go away? Does it get me out of this cell? Likely it makes you all happy. The evil forgemaster, brought so low. At the end of the day, you are still just another jailor, with the power to let me out, and you refuse. I don’t want your pity or your sympathy. I don’t care for it.”

“Since I’m the only one in this castle who seems to have any for you, you should reconsider that stance.”

Hector laughed. “And there it is. The threat. The ‘be grateful because it could be worse’ bit you love so much, Leno—” He froze.

Sypha stared, her eyes wide.

“Just leave me alone,” Hector finally said. “If it’s not another stupid fucking game, just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat the food if I leave?”

“…I’ll consider it.”

“…Thank you… Hector.”

He didn’t say anything as she left. The door didn’t slam shut, or lock. He kept waiting for it to, but it didn’t. He looked back at the food. It looked normal enough.

He remembered Lenore tossing berries at him, when he was too weak to reach for them, and knew better than to make sudden movements. He grimaced and turned away. Lenore had been kind once, too. They were always kind until they got what they wanted. Dracula, Carmilla, Lenore, even his parents, once upon a time, in their own way. He was almost grateful for Isaac. Isaac hadn’t given a damn about his fellow forgemaster’s existence, and made no attempt to hide the fact. It was honest, at least.

He’d killed his tormenters before. Years ago. Lifetimes ago now, it seemed. Tricked another. Been thrown by Carmilla into the willing arms of Lenore. He’d tried to escape multiple times, to no avail. This cell seemed little different than his first in Styria. He wondered if they were still in Styria somewhere. Maybe he’d ask them next time.

Assuming they didn’t just leave him down here to starve to death. Adrian seemed ready to let him.

Hector smiled. Honesty, at least.

There was a small ‘yip’ by the door and Hector frowned as he looked in that direction. Something nudged the door open and ran for the cell. Hector’s eyes widened as he saw Little Cezar grinning at him. The dog squeezed through the cell bars and raced towards him.

“Little Cezar?” Hector asked, opening his arms to the dog. The creature leapt into his arms and yipped again. Hector laughed and raised the dog to his face. Cezar licked his cheek and Hector laughed again. He knew he was crying, too, but he’d never expected to see the dog again. Thought he was killed in the battle at Braila or something.

He had to be in Dracula’s castle, then, wherever it was. Unless someone had kidnapped the dog, or he was an illusion or something, which seemed a ridiculous amount of effort. Even Lenore hadn’t bothered tormenting him with his love of animals, for all that Carmilla was aware of it.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Hector said, quietly, petting the dog. “I wish I had food for you… But if you want stew and bread…” He frowned at the food. If it was poisoned or… But Little Cezar couldn’t exactly die again, could he? Hector still hesitated, but the dog seemed happy to just curl up in his lap. Hector smiled at it and pet the dog some more.

* * *

“Well?” Sypha asked, gesturing to the seeing mirror in Adrian’s study. The three of them – Adrian, Sypha, and Trevor – were all standing around Adrian’s desk, watching Hector pet the dog and talk quietly to him.

“Do you know the kinds of monsters I’ve seen animals curl up to?” Trevor asked. He had his arms crossed and a flinty look in his eyes as he watched the mirror. “Animal training is a mix of art and science, and not all evil people fuck it up. One random zombie dog liking him doesn’t make him a saint. Also, now he has a minion to mess with.”

“Well, when he makes an army of pugs, I imagine we’ll just be overwhelmed,” Sypha replied. She turned to Adrian. “Adrian…?”

“There are a few vampire lords who train their dogs,” Adrian replied. “Some notoriously so.”

Sypha sighed. “You two are hopeless.”

“Although I don’t remember any of them using dogs that _small_ ,” Adrian continued. “I don’t think any of them would see the point.”

“Fine, he’s horrible and he likes tiny, cute dogs!” Sypha threw her hands up and walked away.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” Trevor said. “There are monsters to hunt. More vampire lords out there filling the gap Dracula’s death left open. And the other forgemaster, Isaac, too. Who knows what he’s up to?”

“You are not going to murder an unarmed, half-starved, badly injured man in a prison cell,” Sypha said.

“Even though that seems to be what he wants?” Trevor asked.

“It’s what he seemingly wants because it’s the best of the terrible options we’ve given him,” Sypha replied. “Hector’s been tortured and kept as a pet himself by a monster for who knows how long, and he expects us to do the same. In your shoes—”

“In my shoes, I’d escape,” Trevor interrupted.

“He won’t be able to,” Adrian replied. “Not with us here.”

“Exactly,” Sypha said. “So he can’t escape, and we’re not letting him out of this cell, and he expects the worst from us. So in that situation, what would you do?”

Trevor frowned. “Death would be preferable.”

Sypha waited.

“We can’t just _let him go_ , Sypha. The man’s a mass murderer.”

“And we’re suddenly judge, jury, and executioners? Well, we are, but we aren’t exactly jailing anyone else we’ve come across, and not all the monsters we’ve met were non-human.”

“Give him time,” Trevor replied. “He’ll try to escape and slit all our throats.”

* * *

As Adrian dropped Hector’s limp body on the large bed in a spare room in the castle, Sypha asked, “What was it you said four days ago, Trevor? Remind me. I have perfect recall of oral stories, but sometimes, you see, I forget… I don’t think you said he’d refuse to eat or drink and collapse from hunger and nearly die from thirst.”

“I must have said it while you were busy,” Trevor replied, glaring from the doorway. “This is still a stupid idea.”

“He needs rest,” Sypha said. “On ground that isn’t made of hard stone. Where it’s warm.”

Little Cezar leapt up onto the bedspread and burrowed down next to Hector. The human was still breathing too shakily.

Sypha went over to the nightstand and poured some water into a glass, then sat by Hector’s side and lifted him a bit so she could pour some water down his throat. After a little she pulled back so he could cough, and she gave him a moment before giving him some more.

“Sypha,” Trevor started, “do you really want to play nursemaid to _him_?”

“My people focus on helping those who need us,” Sypha replied, focusing on Hector’s breathing. She finally put the glass down and tucked Hector more firmly under the covers. “My liking it doesn’t come into it. I see someone hurting, and I can help, so I do.”

Trevor sighed and turned to the door, “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“It’s not about deserving, Trevor."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon a day later when Hector woke up normally, murmuring. Sypha had been reading from a stack of books Trevor and Adrian had brought her, while she sat in a large comfortable chair next to Hector’s bedside.

Hector blinked and looked up and around, then to his right.

Sypha smiled when she noticed and said, “Good afternoon, how are you feeling?”

Hector blinked at her, then his eyes widened and he froze in place.

Sypha raised an eyebrow. “Are you…? I mean I know you’re not all right, you were starving, but I have some water and some food for you. The food should be easier on your stomach.”

“…Whatever you want, Lenore…” Hector replied.

Sypha frowned. “Lenore? You mean the vampire we killed in Styria?” Her eyes widened. “Hector, I’m not Lenore, I’m Sypha, remember? I’m a speaker. We’ve spoken a little since you came to Castlevania. In the dungeon?”

Hector blinked. “…What?”

“Do you remember Little Cezar? Your dog? He hasn’t left your side since you’ve been in here.” She pointed at his side and Hector looked down to see the dog there, curled by his stomach.

“He’s…” Hector said quietly. He put a hand to his head and blinked for a while. Finally he said, “Then I… Why am I here? What happened to the cell?”

“You refused to drink or eat and collapsed from dehydration and starvation. I insisted you be brought up here where it was warm and comfortable, rather than leave you to rot on a stone floor.”

Hector pushed himself up into a sitting position. Sypha reached forward to help, but he shrank away from her. She pulled back and he eventually got himself up.

Sypha picked up a cup nearby and held it out to him. “It’s just water.”

Hector stared at her for a while, then finally took the cup and drank it.

“You really want to die?” Sypha asked.

“Not particularly,” Hector replied. “But it’s better than… Than being kept in a cage.”

Sypha grimaced. “Adrian, Trevor, and I have been talking… I don’t think we’ll send you back to the cell. We weren’t expecting you to… go through with it. I think it’s truly shocked them enough, maybe.”

“So will I be confined to this room instead?” Hector asked. “It’s comparable to my last cell in Styria. Does this one have a closet you can…?” Hector grimaced and looked away.

“For the time being, if you want to leave, you’ll have to have one of us with you, and you’ll probably only be allowed in the castle, and it will be limited, but I’m working on it.”

Hector sighed. “I guess it’s something. And what payment do you want for all this? I don’t have any money and Lenore says I’m passable at fucking, if that’s what you want.”

“No, I—! We don’t want that,” Sypha said. She frowned. “I want you to eat the food I deliver. Maybe go on walks with me so you can get some exercise and fresh air. Play with Little Cezar so he isn’t sad. That’s all.”

Hector stared at her. There was no trust in his gaze whatsoever.

He finally sighed. “Very well.”

She smiled and picked up a tray nearby.

* * *

Hector recovered a bit faster after that. He ate the meals his new captors brought him, and suffered no ill effects for it. Adrian reviewed his injuries on a regular basis while Hector tried not to scream at being so close to a vampire.

The breakthrough came when Adrian asked how Hector was progressing on the books Sypha had been bringing him.

Hector turned away so he could finish putting his shirt on with some measure of privacy. “I… slowly, I suppose. I enjoy them. There’s just so much. I read a great deal when I… when I worked here, but I always had my work to focus on. Now there’s just… free time. And I feel like there’s always more.”

“My father’s libraries are vast,” Adrian said, looking at a wall. “And there is also the Belmont trove, which Sypha has also been looking at.”

“I’d love to see it,” Hector said. “Of course, it’s a fantasy, but, well… When I was little I was limited in what I was allowed to read, and even on my own… I never really had the money for many books, and they didn’t survive well in my lodgings. But here, there’s just so much.”

“Any particular interest?” Adrian asked. “Maybe I could help Sypha pick for you.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Adrian shrugged. “Someone should get use out of this place. Although you’ll have to understand I’m unlikely to pick something to do with magic.”

Hector smiled. “Yes. I’m more interested in biology, botany, and history anyway. And mythology, I suppose.”

“Mythology?”

“I had a storybook when I was young, just the one, and I devoured every story in it.” He had a soft smile on his face now. “But it was just one book. Our village didn’t have much else, and I wouldn’t have had the money for it if I did. I liked… imagining other places I’d never go to. With a focus on animals I’d never see, of course, but wanted to.”

Adrian watched Hector for a bit, noting the odd light in his eyes as he remembered something… That usual self-deprecating smile not so sharp for once.

Hector shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m babbling.”

“No, it’s fine. For once you don’t sound as defeatist as usual.”

Hector snorted. “Forgive me, then, I’ll try harder to return to form.”

Adrian ‘hmphed’. “If that is what you wish.”

Hector raised an eyebrow at the him. “What, don’t tell me you’re _happy_ I seem more upbeat?”

“Should I delight in your depression?”

“…Yes? You and Belmont despise me. I imagine if I died it would make things easier for both of you.”

“It might make things easier, but that doesn’t mean I’m a sadist. Why do you think I’m treating your injuries?”

“Because Sypha guilt-tripped you?”

Adrian snorted. “Well that is partially true.”

Hector smiled at that, and Adrian was caught by the expression. It looked… so guileless. Just…

He shook his head. “You should come with me to the library, then. You can see your options.”

Hector raised an eyebrow at him again. “I… all right.”

* * *

Hector was sitting in an armchair in one of the small castle libraries, the windows letting in some sunshine, Little Cezar in his lap, reading a book on gardening, when Trevor found him.

“Why are you in here alone?” Trevor demanded, marching up to him.

Hector blinked and looked up, then looked around, clearly surprised. “I… wasn’t? Adrian was just here…”

Trevor snorted, and Hector looked back at him, clearly still alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m not lying.”

Trevor raised an eyebrow at him.

“You all lock the door when you leave my room, how would I get out? I assure you, lockpicking was never a specialty of mine.”

“Well, if you _say_ so, I suppose it must be true,” Trevor replied. “I imagine you’re bad at lying, too?”

Hector snorted. “Actually yes, but does it matter? You’ll think the worst of me, no matter what I say.”

“You act like I’m strange for doing it,” Trevor replied. “I’m sorry, when did it become a bad thing to not particularly take to a mass murderer?”

“I’m not asking you to…” Hector frowned. “I don’t expect you to _like_ me, I just don’t know what the point of this conversation even is.”

“You’ve been wheedling Adrian and Sypha. I wanted to know what it is I’m missing. Clearly not much.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “And yet… you’re still here. One would think you liked me.”

“Do the people your creations have butchered ever bother you?”

“Would it make a damn difference to you if it did?”

“…Maybe. I don’t know. If I knew it made you squirm, perhaps.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “I’ve never had a high opinion of humanity. Even in the moments where… I hesitated, before what Dracula wanted, or considered the bodies, I can’t say it bothered me as much as it would have bothered someone else. I noticed it more in Styria because they seemed to intentionally target the helpless, and yes, perhaps it bothered me more, but if you’re looking for some confession, you’re not getting one.”

“So you admit you’re a monster?”

Hector huffed a laugh. “Of course I am. My parents said so, after all.” He met Trevor’s eyes. “But I killed them, too.”

Trevor’s gaze narrowed. “Dial up the mad murderer who doesn’t give a shit vibe, why don’t you?”

“Maybe if you want an excuse to just kill me, you should get it over with and save us both the trouble.”

Trevor raised an eyebrow at that.

Hector blinked, snorted, and looked away.

Trevor studied him some more. “I think it does bother you, a bit.”

Hector rolled his eyes.

“Did your parents really call you a monster?”

“Many times. Although they were usually more creative in their terminology.”

“Can’t have been easy, raising a child with magic.”

“That assumes they tried, even before they knew I had it. And honestly, if you’re just going to spout apologia for them, you can just… fuck off, or whatever.”

“Touchy subject, then?”

“I murdered them. What do you think?”

“I’ve come across a few witches in my time. Ostracized by their families, their villages. A lot of children with magic get abused, used, sold, or thrown out with the trash, assuming they survive.”

“And what did you do? Murder them?”

“No. Usually I left them alone. They world had done enough to them.”

Hector’s lips twitched. “Were any of them, ah, what is it you like to say, _mass murderers_?”

Trevor shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I do know I’ve seen what someone desperate for affection with do for people who show it to them.”

Hector blinked, then scoffed. “Maybe he paid me. Or promised me power.”

“Or maybe Adrian talked to me about Dracula wrote in his personal notebooks about you already so we knew what we were working with when we dragged you back here. I know what promises he made to you.”

“So what? Feeling sorry for me? Poor little mageling who murdered his parents and lives alone with his undead pets goes to help his only friend extinguish most of humanity?”

Trevor sighed. “This is why I don’t try to make friends with people.”

Hector laughed. “Get in line. They’ll just stab you in the back.”

Trevor looked at Hector out of the corner of his eyes. Saw the way Hector glared at the floor. The way the fingers of his right hand pressed hard into his arm, in a way that must have been painful. How he was shaking ever so slightly, and almost seemed like he’d break apart with a touch. “I think I’ll go locate Adrian. Don’t. Move.” Trevor walked away.

* * *

Trevor sighed as he flopped down on the bed next to Sypha, who was reading some more.

“Long day?” she asked, reaching over to drag her fingers through his hair.

“No. Boring. Always boring. I might go on a hunt on my own soon, at this rate.”

“And leave our dangerous prisoner unguarded? Think of the scandal!” Sypha was smiling and lowered her book.

“I think our prisoner has his own self to worry about.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I tried talking to him a bit. He’s… Adrian’s mentioned he has depression, but I think there’s more in his background than Dracula’s journals suggested. Abusive childhood, no magical training, hates humans…”

“You almost sound like you see him as a person, not a monster.”

“Plenty of monsters are people.”

“But you’re trying to understand this one. It’s a nice change.”

“What, for hating him for the reason that he’s just murdered humans because he fucking could?”

Sypha sighed. “You don’t have to love him, Trevor. But whatever he did… He’s not a monster. When he’s not stonewalling or self-deprecating, he can be rather… gentle. Sweet, even. Like someone else I know.”

“Oh you did _not_ just compare us!”

“Don’t worry, I’d _never_ make that mistake.”

* * *

“So this is the shelf you’re working on?” Sypha said as she rounded the corner, spotting Hector looking through a new shelf of books.

“I… well, after a fashion. I noticed this got a bit jumbled. I’m not sure if it was during the… the battle with Dracula, but I tried putting it back in order. If only so I could find things more easily, I guess.”

“Mmm. A lot was messed up. We’re still finding damage. We’ve done a lot of cleaning up, but we’re only three people, and Trevor would rather be fighting monsters, anyway. Or sleeping.”

Hector smiled. “I can at least understand the sleeping. After a fashion. When I was… in Styria, sleep was sometimes my only escape. Although never a peaceful one.”

“Trevor doesn’t sleep well, either,” Sypha replied. “He has his own nightmares.”

Hector grimaced. “I hope they aren’t as terrible as mine, but to each their own demons.”

Sypha smiled sadly.

Hector put the book he’d been holding back on the shelf. “Sypha… would you… Would you show me what happened in Styria?”

“What?”

“The battle where… where Lenore and… Carmilla were killed. I need to see it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have magic, you can… Some spell to show me your memories of it? I just…” He swallowed and turned away. “I keep seeing them coming back for me. Or… Or waking up and this is all a dream or… Or I don’t know. I need to know they’re really dead.”

“I promise you, Hector, they’re dead.”

“Please, Sypha.”

She swallowed at the desperation on his face and sighed. “All right. Come with me.” She led him through the library to a back section he hadn’t yet visited. He wasn’t usually allowed back here, where most of the higher-level magic books were kept. The books protected themselves, by and large, but Hector couldn’t help his curiosity for them.

Sypha led him past them all. There was a small nook, with a tall mirror set by a wall.

“We had these set up in a lot of rooms for easy surveillance purposes,” Sypha said. “To check the castle wards as needed at a moment’s notice.” She touched a hand to the mirror. “But I can use it for… I just need to focus.”

Hector swallowed and watched the mirror.

“Understand my memory will be limited,” Sypha said. “It is my perspective, not… It is limited.”

“Yes. I understand.”

Slowly, a murky vision appeared. They were moving forward quickly, and then a spike of ice appeared in one enemy, and a burst of flame took another. Hector realized they were looking through Sypha’s eyes, and… he recognized Carmilla and Lenore’s castle.

Sypha glanced back at Trevor, who was ducking around a group of vampires, then Sypha was back with her own problems. He was startled to see Morana appear, then dodge aside as Sypha threw more ice and fire.

Sypha glanced one direction to see Isaac ducking and weaving through the army. Hector felt a burst of something chill in him as he watched Isaac fight, even briefly. The man was as coldly efficient as ever.

Sypha was knocked down at one point, and a familiar voice said, “So you’re a Speaker, are you? I’ve always wanted to meet one of you.”

Sypha rolled and threw more fire, and Lenore _screamed_.

Hector didn’t realize he was clutching at his elbows as he watched the mirror. The vision was… jarring, as Sypha dodged around and attacked on instinct.

Lenore was good.

Sypha was better.

Sypha barely stuck around as Lenore crumbled to death with a cry. Morana was there, and Sypha worked with Trevor to fight her, particularly when Striga stepped in. Sypha was thrown aside and the seemed to almost stumble for a moment. Sypha turned to her right at an odd shout and they saw Isaac and Carmilla moving around each other, both bloody.

Isaac fell to his knees and Carmilla dove in for the kill.

Then she screamed as Isaac stabbed her right through the heart. She burned red and flames burst over her body. Sypha turned back to the fight.

The vision faded.

“Is that it?” Hector demanded, stepping forward, but not sure what he’d do, anyway.

“Yes. By the time the fight was over, Carmilla was ash. There were so many dead vampires at that point, and we were trying to figure out what to do. I didn’t even know who Carmilla _was_ , specifically, until Adrian told me.”

“So how do you know, she… She could have survived. Couldn’t she?”

“Even a powerful vampire would have had trouble with that. And I doubt Isaac would have let her go."

“…No. No he wouldn’t have.” Hector fell to his knees, and realized he was trembling. “God…”

“Hector?” Sypha walked over and knelt by him.

“I’m fine, I’m… I…” He put his hands over his face. His cheeks were wet. “They’re really gone. They’re…”

“All of Styria’s leaders are dead,” Sypha said. “The area was returned to the local humans. They’re recovering quickly, according to reports we’ve been hearing.”

“Yes,” Hector said. “That’s… great.”

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Sypha asked, kneeling at his side. “Or a drink? Or food?”

“…Sunlight,” Hector replied. “Just… some sunlight, please.”

She helped him up, and he only slightly flinched away from her, but let himself be picked up and helped towards one of the nearby windows. Sunlight streamed through and as he stepped into it, he fell back to his knees and Sypha dropped beside him.

Hector was breathing hard now and half lay down in the sunlight, his forehead touching the carpet.

Sypha hesitantly her hand out over Hector’s back, and quietly said, “Hector? Are you…? Please tell me what you need.”

“Just… Just let me be like this… For a bit.”

“…All right.”

After a while, his trembling slowed, and his breathing eased, but only slightly.

“Do you… Do you know what it’s like to be kept in the dark that long?”

“No,” Sypha replied, not quite knowing what he was talking about, but knowing whatever it was, was bad. “You aren’t there anymore, Hector. You’re never going back there.”

“God, I hope not,” Hector replied, laughing a bit, shakily. He turned and flopped over onto his side so he could look at her.

She saw the tears on his cheeks, and the sad half-smile on his lips.

“I hope not,” he whispered.

She moved closer and lay down beside him before lightly brushing the tears away, then she met his gaze. “I promise. So long as I draw breath.”

“Don’t make that kind of promise to me, Sypha,” Hector said. “Not to… to me.”

“I’ll make what promises I wish,” Sypha replied. She smiled at him and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. “And you can’t stop me.”

Hector sniffled. “…Thank you, for that. The mirror. I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s fine, Hector. I didn’t expect it to be easy. That’s why I didn’t think it would be a good idea to do it.”

“I needed it.”

“And now it’s done. Is that all right?”

“…I don’t know.”

“…Well, that’s for future us to figure out, then?”

He laughed again, a bit stronger this time. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

* * *

“So many of them fall for the lonely wagon trick!” Sypha said, raising her glass as she, Adrian, and Hector sat at the kitchen table together. “I don’t know why!”

“Accuracy to type?” Adrian offered. “Humans are creatures of habit, and they hardly change when they become vampires most of the time.”

“I imagine that’s why I didn’t find Lord Dr—” Hector coughed. “Never mind.”

“No, say what you were thinking,” Adrian said.

Hector sighed. “I didn’t find anything _off_ about Lord Dracula when we first met. Well… I thought he was a bored lordling, perhaps. Or a merchant down on his luck. But I didn’t think he was a vampire until he lifted his glamour. Of course that was the point, but still…”

“The more powerful vampire lords break habit, which lets them become powerful,” Adrian said. “Father was the master of it.”

“I can only imagine,” Hector replied.

“What was he like, when you met him?” Adrian asked. “He… Living as a human for him was an entire experience that… It was always different when he was with us or with other humans. And certainly before…” Adrian swallowed. “ _Before_.”

“Adrian, we don’t have to—” Hector began.

“No. I want to remember him. How he was, before… Before everything fell apart.”

Hector grimaced and played with his glass. “He was… enchanting, in his own way. He had this way of looking at you like you were the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Like no matter what you said, you were amazing. It was… really something. An almost palpable charsima. And he was so intelligent. I’d never… A few scholars passed through my village, and of course my father, but… I hadn’t met or really conversed with many scholars. And he knew so much, and was fascinated by my abilities. At least… Normally people stayed away, but here was someone who not only wanted to know more about what I did – without planning to abuse my powers or sell me into slavery or something – but encouraged me. Asked me about every aspect of it. And he was funny, too, and kind.” Hector flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling again.”

“No,” Adrian said. “Please don’t apologize. It was nice to… hear that.”

“Having a happy chat?” Trevor asked as he walked in.

“You’re finally back!” Sypha said. “There’s still food left if you’re hungry.”

“…Thanks,” Trevor said, walking over to the stove.

“How were the grounds?” Adrian asked.

“Clean. Caught sight of what might have been some sort of wolf creature wandering around, but it fled. Nothing else of interest.”

Hector was staring down at his cup.

“Do go on,” Trevor commented, spooning some of the stew into a bowl. “I’d hate to interrupt your night.”

Adrian sighed. “We were talking about my father, before… before my mother was murdered.”

“…Ah.” Trevor turned and sat down in the empty chair between Adrian and Hector. Didn’t look at any of them as he focused on his food. “Why?”

“He was a different man, when he met Hector, and I wanted to know more about him.”

“Well, I’m sorry I just walked in on that,” Trevor said.

Adrian shrugged. “It wasn’t like you did anything wrong.

“Tell me about him, then,” Trevor said. “You haven’t talked about him much. From before.”

Adrian blinked, then glanced at Sypha, who shrugged. “Are you sure?”

“Well I’m going to be eating so I won’t be talking, and it lets us get through the awkward conversation bumps, doesn’t it?”

Adrian snorted. “How diplomatic, Trevor.”

“Now, now, you promised you wouldn’t say that out of bed.” He winked at Adrian, who shook his head.

Hector flushed.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, _Hector?_ ” Trevor asked, noticing the blush.

“…I suppose. It’s rather forward. But you’re… together, I guess? So it’s none of my business.”

“Fair of you.”

Hector shrugged and drank more of his wine.

“Trevor can be overly crass at the best of times,” Sypha said, meeting Hector’s gaze as he put his cup back down.

“Hey!”

“You are,” Adrian replied, lightly batting Trevor’s shoulder.

“I’m insulted!” Trevor replied, playfully. “You’re being too kind to my character. I’m crass _all_ the time.”

“Just tell him to shut up if it gets too annoying,” Sypha continued, smiling at Hector.

“…Noted,” Hector replied, smiling ever so slightly back.

* * *

“He will _not_ be allowed into my family’s library!” Trevor snarled, slamming a hand on the kitchen table for emphasis. Sypha glared at him. Adrian was standing by the stove, watching their lunch cook. Hector was back in his room while they talked.

“The place needs to be organized,” Sypha said. “After the battle with Dracula’s monsters, it’s a shambles, and who knows what is being destroyed as every day passes? And if Adrian and I want to set up better, more permanent wards, we need to be able to assess all the damage. What we have now is serviceable, but it’s not enough, particularly if we want to travel again at some point. And I don’t have all the time in the world to do it, nor the patience. I’ll gladly read things there, but Hector likes organization. He can do it.”

“Do you know what kind of secrets are kept there?” Trevor asked. “Things a forgemaster would be _thrilled_ to learn.”

“Then we kill him if he fucks up,” Adrian said, stirring one of the pots. “He’s just one man. And a human. If he starts turning himself into a god or something, we’ll know.”

“Adrian!”

“No, I like the idea,” Trevor said. “It’s the first piece of sense either of you have spoken since you started falling in love with the man.”

“You _can_ sleep on the floor,” Sypha said. “The stone floor. The cold one. Not nice wet grass that smells like dirt. Stone.”

“You let one of _Dracula’s Generals_ run wild in some of the best hoards of magical information the world’s seen, and suddenly _I’m_ the bad guy?”

“I’m sure he’s going to murder us all when he can name all the known species of begonias,” Adrian replied. “At least we’ll have flowers on our graves.”

Trevor put a hand on his face.

“Adrian and I have our magic on him when he’s not in his room, Trevor,” Sypha replied. “We have watch spells all over the castle. Ways to track magic. We’re not being careless about this."

“Fine, then let’s talk about this, for once, because you both are… You think I don’t see it? The way you’re both reacting to him?”

Sypha and Adrian looked at each other.

“It’s not…” Adrian frowned. “It’s unexpected. Honestly.”

“He’s wounded,” Sypha said. “In a lot of places. Not unlike two other people I hold dear to me.”

“But we’re not the same,” Trevor replied. “I’ve done a lot of shit, and I’m sure Adrian has done a lot of shit, but we’re not… Sypha it’s not the same.”

“And what about you?” Sypha replied. “You think we haven’t noticed?”

Trevor scoffed. “I’m a mess on the best of days. It’s hardly surprising, I suppose.”

“Then we all have something else in common,” Adrian said. “The question is what to do about it.”

* * *

Hector finished putting his shirt on as Adrian put his things away.

“The physical side of your injuries are healing quite nicely,” Adrian commented, before he turned back to Hector. “But I did want to ask if… if you wanted to talk about the mental side of things.”

“What?” Hector asked, looking up at him.

“What little you’ve said about your imprisonment was… terrible, Hector, and it led you to try to kill yourself here. I’m not… as adept at dealing with mental health as my mother was. Certainly you might be better off talking to Sypha, but I do want you to know that… you can talk to us, about things. You’re very closed off, which is understandable, but still.”

Hector swallowed and looked away. “I’m still a prisoner.”

“…Yes.”

“And you want me to… what, reveal myself? To you?” Hector shook his head. “She… Lenore wanted that, too, once. She wanted honesty. Openness. Then she used it to trap me even more. So you’ll have to forgive me for not trusting the invitation when I know all of this is just… a nicer jail cell.”

“…I’m sorry. I… shouldn’t have said anything.”

“…No. No, you’re trying to…” Hector sighed. “You’ve given me a lot of freedom, here, and asked barely anything of me, besides not breaking out and not sticking my nose into some of the more magical corners of the castle. I should… have more trust in you.”

“After what’s happened, I don’t blame you for not. And you _are_ still a prisoner of a sort, much as this whole arrangement doesn’t make all that much sense.” Adrian rubbed his arm. “You’ve done terrible things, Hector. But we have gotten to know you better. Sypha and I enjoy your company, too, if you weren’t aware.”

“But not Trevor.”

Adrian shook his head. “Trevor is… a deep well. You’d be surprised. I always am.”

“I don’t blame him if he hates me.”

Adrian sighed. “But back to my original point, then. If there’s something you need, health-wise, let me know? I want to help.”

Hector was quiet for a while, and Adrian could tell he was thinking hard about something.

“I… It’s silly…”

“You’re my patient. Whatever it is, it’s not silly.”

Hector laughed. “You could… touch me more, if you wanted.”

Adrian blinked.

“You see? It’s silly.”

“No, I… Where did this come from?”

Hector rubbed the arch of his thumb for a moment before replying, “It’s odd, you know. All that time as Lenore’s plaything, you’d think I’d… hate it. Touch. Intimacy. And maybe in some respects I do. But I was never allowed near anyone else, save for the odd visit to Carmilla and the other leaders. For months, I was basically isolated from everyone but Lenore. And it… it grates at you, you know? When I was on my own I didn’t notice it as much. I had animals, they made up for it. But after Lenore… I don’t know. Then… Sypha’s held my hand or my arm, and you’ve touched my shoulder and… every time, it… It feels good. I feel happy, for a little. It’s nice.” He smiled with that little smile of his. “I think about it a lot. I think sometimes you both treat me too gently. I flinch enough, I know, and I appreciate that you respect that, but… I have this odd ache sometimes. It’s… silly, though, and I don’t blame you for being… repulsed by the idea.”

“...I’m not repulsed.”

Hector shrugged.

Alucard thought for a moment. "It bothers you that I'm a vampire."

"Half. Half-vampire."

"We both know that doesn't change things."

Hector chuckled. "I don't know. Maybe it does?"

"And you're... sure about this? I don't want to hurt you or frighten you."

"Some of that will beyond your control. And you're listening, right? Do you trust me to tell you when it's too much for me?"

"...Yes."

Hector smiled. "Then I'll tell you. And I can decide when it's too much."

“Well… I… guess I’ll make more of an effort. Although I’m not sure how to normalize that. I don’t even touch Sypha and Trevor that much outside… the bedroom.”

Hector laughed. “I don’t think… I mean… That’s not necessary…” He flushed. “Not that I thought you were asking, or…”

Adrian laughed softly and moved forward to put a hand on Hector’s shoulder. It made the human shiver. “Hector, it’s all right. It’s… I’m not quite sure what you’re asking, but it’s all right.” He could hear Hector’s heartrate increase rapidly, and Hector was flushing even darker now. Adrian slowly moved his arm along Hector’s shoulder. He could feel just how tense the man was, but Hector didn’t move away.

Adrian slowly drew his hand up Hector’s neck, gently caressing, before moving his fingers along Hector’s jawline.

Hector shut his eyes.

Adrian moved his thumb over Hector’s soft lips, feeling them, before he moved forward and ever so gently placed a kiss on them.

Hector tilted his face more and pressed into the kiss.

Adrian slid his hand back into Hector’s hair and pushed Hector back down on the bed, so that Adrian was on top of him as they deepened the kiss.

Hector’s left hand went up and trailed along Adrian’s side.

Adrian growled softly and licked his way into Hector’s mouth. When he finally pulled away to give Hector some air, Adrian looked at his almost debauched expression and smiled. “I wonder what I shall do with you.”

Hector opened his eyes and was still blushing, but he smiled, a little, too. “What do you _want_ to do?”

Adrian smiled.

* * *

A week passed. Hector was working on a shelf of fairy-related texts today. He had a small stack nearby and was browsing what was left on the shelves. Adrian noted he was wearing one of the paler shirts today, and his tighter pants. Adrian stayed back for a while, watching the way the planes of Hector’s back sometimes shifted in the back of the shirt, the movement of his hips as he walked back and forth by the shelf.

They hadn’t done anything since that first night, and Adrian had been keyed up ever since.

Finally, Adrian stepped forward and said, “Hector?”

Hector flinched and looked back, startled, then smiled. “Adrian. What are you doing here? Come to pick up something?”

“Mm… sort of.” Adrian walked forward slowly, noting that Hector didn’t shy away, and Hector’s eyes darted over Adrian’s body just a bit. Adrian’s smile widened. He paused about a foot away and said, serious, “Let me know if… this is too far, all right?”

Hector raised an eyebrow at him.

Adrian moved forward, trapping Hector against the bookshelf. Adrian could tell Hector’s heartrate picked up, but Hector didn’t struggle, and he didn’t seem to be panicking. Hector’s right hand covered Adrian’s left bicep.

“Adrian…?” Hector asked.

Adrian leaned in, nuzzling Hector’s hair a little. Hector made a soft sound. Adrian leaned down and captured his lips, pressing him even more into the bookcase. Hector made another of those sounds and Adrian swallowed it. When they broke so Hector could gasp some air, Adrian moved down to nuzzle Hector’s neck.

“Adrian!” Hector said, quietly. He wrapped his arms around Adrian’s neck.

“Mmm?” Adrian said.

“You taste good,” Hector said, his breath stuttering.

Adrian growled. “I want to take you right here. Now.”

Hector was breathing so hard. “So fucking do it.”

Adrian growled again and worked at Hector’s pants while Hector nuzzled at Adrian’s neck. Adrian eventually partially tore the damn things off, then quickly pulled his own down. He pulled some oil from a pocket in his jacket, oiled up his hands, and said, “Put your legs up.” He ended up helping Hector wrap his legs around Adrian’s hips, which made Hector giggle slightly at the silliness of it.

Adrian was careful, watching Hector’s heartrate and movements as he thrust his hand between Hector’s cheeks, rubbing his rim a bit as Hector moaned, before working his fingers in.

Hector’s fingers dug into Adrian’s shoulders and Adrian grunted, pleased, as he worked Hector over. He shortly grew impatient and pulled his fingers out, and replaced them with his cock. He went slowly, a bit nervous.

“Adrian,” Hector said after a while. “If you don’t get your cock all the way in me soon I will fucking _lose_ it.”

Adrian laughed and went a bit faster.

The bookshelf shook against them as Adrian started a rhythm. He made sure he wasn’t harming Hector, but otherwise kept a brutal pace in time with Hector demanding “More, more! Please, fuck!”

Adrian took hold of Hector’s cock as he came close, making Hector make a guttural moan. As Hector came, he clenched around Adrian, bringing him as close as he needed. Adrian pressed into Hector, breathing hard through the shock of his release, distantly worried he was crushing Hector, but Hector merely murmured nonsensically.

As the room seemed to quiet around them, Hector murmured, “Please come pick up more things more often.”

Adrian laughed.

* * *

Trevor wandered down to the Belmont library at one point. It was hard for him, after all the loss, breaking the protective barrier, the further destruction… It was just hard.

And of course, its new resident forgemaster.

Trevor was surprised to see the place looked a lot cleaner than he last recalled. He looked around for the man himself, and spotted Hector inspecting a weapons wall.

“Something wrong?” Trevor asked as he walked up to the man. Hector still unsettled him a bit. Trevor didn’t know where to place him in the world. What to do with him. Sure, he’d been thinking through things, but…

“A bunch of these had fallen down before I arrived,” Hector replied, watching the weapons. “I’ve replaced them, but I’m not sure if they’re in the right places.”

Trevor looked it over. “It looks fine to me.”

Hector smiled. “Do you want it to be just ‘fine’, though? I don’t want… I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Trevor snorted. “It’s not _your_ family.”

Hector frowned, then shrugged. “No, it’s not.”

Trevor narrowed his eyes at the slightly forlorn expression on the other man’s face. “You really care, don’t you?”

Hector snorted. “Does it bother you so much that I do? I know I disgust you.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Always with the melodrama.”

Hector scoffed. “Always with the dismissals.”

Trevor stepped forward and was surprised when Hector only looked slightly askance at him.

“I could hurt you,” Trevor said.

“So hurt me,” Hector challenged.

How they ended up on the floor with Trevor shoving his cock into Hector’s ass while Hector threw back his head and moaned was a bit beyond Trevor. He leaned down and lightly bit at Hector’s right nipple.

Hector came with a gasp, and clenched hard around Trevor. Trevor grunted and made a few more quick thrusts before coming himself, pulling Hector’s legs to himself to press himself as deep into the other man as he could. Sweat dripped down his face onto Hector’s chest.

They both breathed heavily for a bit as they came down. Finally, Trevor turned his face to look at Hector. Hector blinked slowly and finally looked back at Trevor.

Trevor had no idea what to say.

“…Round 2?” Hector asked, gently caressing Trevor’s right arm. There was daring in his eyes. Challenge.

Trevor grinned.

* * *

Things settled into something of a pattern. Sypha and Trevor would head out on hunts – at long last, according Trevor’s loud excitement as they headed off – while Adrian and Hector stayed behind to watch over the castle. Adrian and Sypha would spend time with Hector in the library. Trevor would take him on walks around the grounds, pointing out places he’d played as a child, patches of wild berries or old trees or a familiar pond. Sometimes Hector saw Trevor’s expression go distant, like he was thinking of old, painful memories. Hector would sit nearby at those times and just stay close, as needed.

Hector also watched Sypha and Adrian practice magic, while staying away from it himself. The trio also sparred, while Hector looked on, _very_ uninterested in joining in. But it made them all happy, so he was happy. He felt it should have bothered him more, seeing how martially capable they all were. But it never felt like a threat. Just a way for them to let off steam after a long day, or try new things out.

And it meant… he could appreciate them all a bit more. These three people who’d dragged him into their lives and didn’t seem ready to send him away any time soon. And it was fascinating to watch them fight, anyway.

Little Cezar followed him most places, although he didn’t leave the castle.

It was an odd arrangement, this strange little world they’d entered into. Adrian and Hector talked about medicine, biology, and the animals Hector liked to work with. Adrian would distract Hector with kisses if he got too lost in himself, which Hector was always grateful for.

Hector talked mythology and history with Sypha, and loved listening to her regale him with tales of her travels. She’d boop him on the nose if he was still for too long, and she grabbed his hand and dragged him along when she went hunting for herbs in the woods. She taught him meditation, too, which was very difficult, but which he wanted to learn. He envied her focus, her calm in the face of disaster. He needed that. And she was there when he had nightmares, just like Adrian. To comfort, or stand watch, or fetch water. They both had their own nightmares, too, and it was odd for Hector to feel like he was comforting someone else by simply being there.

Trevor would keep watch while Hector organized the Belmont trove, answering questions or looking things up. He tried interesting gadgets Hector uncovered in his wanderings, or recited bits of history that Hector couldn’t understand. He even sang, sometimes, when he wasn’t paying attention, and Hector held his breath and listened to the comforting tunes.

They were still sometimes quick to arguments over petty things, which usually resolved in simple ways, with one of them on the floor or the wall, yelling “faster” or “harder” and working things out in their own way.

“Am I doing this wrong?” Trevor asked one day as they lay on the floor next to each other, staring up at the library’s high ceiling. They were both nude and panting from a recent bout together.

“What?” Hector asked.

“You’re a former forgemaster. You worked for Dracula. You’ve helped kill so many.” Trevor laughed and put a hand on his face. “And Adrian, he’s Dracula’s son. And me? …I’ve destroyed so much of my family’s legacy. A family that seems to have done quite of a lot of horrible things in its time, if this place and its relics and skulls and detailed journalings are any proof.”

“I think…” Hector frowned. “I think we make our own paths in life, and nothing is ever certain.”

“…Huh.”

Hector snorted and sat up, looking down at Trevor. “We can stop this, if you… If you want.”

Trevor looked at him thoughtfully for a very, very long time, then scoffed. “Ha. Not on your life.”

Hector grinned.

So things weren’t perfect. They had nightmares. They found things they didn’t expect in both Dracula’s collection and the Belmont hold. Trevor and Sypha had mixed success with their journeys. Adrian longed to leave, but also hesitated, worried if something he hadn’t yet uncovered in his father’s home might wreak havoc if he left it unguarded. They worried about the world outside theirs. Vampires still running amok without Dracula to corral them. Isaac, whom they hadn’t yet located. The general ebb and flow of human upheaval.

They did what they could. They were all there to help each other up. Comforting words after a night of terror. Encouragement to keep going. It worked.

When Adrian and Hector headed back from the old Belmont estate to the castle, and then walked towards the bedrooms, they were usually met by Sypha and Trevor. Sypha was smiling, and Trevor had something that was half grimace, half smile on his face.

Sypha reached forward and took Hector’s hands, then she pulled him down to kiss him. He leaned into it, gently squeezing her hands. He blushed a little. He’d still wasn’t used to this. When they broke apart, Sypha took one of his hands and one of Trevor’s and grinned at Adrian, pulling them all towards Adrian’s big bedroom.

Hector grabbed Adrian’s hand as they headed up, and he looked back to see the dhampir smiling softly at him.

Hector smiled back.


End file.
